For me this one is pretty simple.
I was 16, awkward as heavens and in New York with my mom. With time to kill we walked into Boyd's of Madison Avenue, one of Ms. Monroe's favorite stops in the big apple. A drug store for the Rockefeller set, the place was chock a block full of old money, diamond encrusted scrunchies and women shopping for unmentionables in their late winter mink. (Very against fur in principle, but Boyd's is hard to picture without it.)
Cue middle aged woman with thick NY accent, "Doll, your eyes would be beautiful if your eyebrows didn't look like thick bars on your forehead. Sit down. Let me make you pretty."
Ladies and Bombshells of the jury, I did sit down and I did let her make me look pretty. I was tweezed, rouged and red lipsticked. She told me stories about the famous and infamous that had shopped there and I pretended to know who they were.
An hour and a half later, "Honey, we are done. Go look at yourself."
Three steps to the mirror. What do I look like? Art Deco Goddess? Screen siren in the style of Lamar, Hepburn, Gabor? Surely, I have finally been transformed....
and in a way I had. Screen siren I was not. But my eyes were brighter, lips colorful and smiling. Stripped of insecurities and painted with a hint of blush, I was the person I always imagined people might see if I could stop getting in my own way.
So maybe I had a heart attack when the sales associate rang up all of that make up. Maybe we spent so much we could only afford dirty water hot dogs for the rest of the trip. Maybe self discovery through cosmetics seems superficial. It doesn't matter. For the first time I looked like the girl I knew I was.
Now it is your turn!
Tell us about your favorite bombshell moment in our comments section AND GET ENTERED INTO A DRAWING FOR A COMPLETE MAKEOVER of your own. Contest ends April 30th...Get ready. Get set. Go!