February 22, 2009
You don't want to change anything about the crazy old ladies with lipstick smears for mouths. You see them on Broadway, usually minding their own business, sometimes also minding the business of an imaginary friend or adversary, squinting into the brilliant sunlight that encourages their thick, frosted eye-shadow to settle firmly into the crow's feet and other sundry wrinkles caused by equal parts age and squinting. You don't want to wipe off their clown blush with a tissue. You don't want Stacy and Clinton swooping down and making them over, toning them down and making them less spectacular. You don't.