Photography: Kelly Thompson Hair And Make-up: Sophie

• Photography: Kelly Thompson Hair And Make-up: Sophie Turner
• Photography: Kelly Thompson Hair And Make-up: Sophie Skelton

If you don’t wear a lot of makeup – or any at all – the thought of getting dolled up, slapping on a ton of foundation and hiring a makeup artist for your wedding can be daunting. You might want to wear a bit of makeup (after all, you’re paying enough for photos and the dress, you might as well look your best) but perhaps you’re terrified that you’ll look so unlike yourself that your hubby-to-be won’t shed tears of joy when you walk down the aisle he’ll just have a look of confusion!

Okay I’m sure it can’t be that bad! I started mulling over this topic with a question from the Southern Bride community. Bride-to-be Lisa asked: As someone who rarely wears makeup what would a makeup artist recommend for the wedding day? As someone who doesn’t know much about makeup myself, and knowing there’s a few brides-to-be out there who don’t wear any at all, I was keen to know if there were any tips, hints or secrets to wearing makeup when you usually don’t wear any at all. I had my opportunity recently, when I headed to Alexandra to catch up with some of my lovely local Southern Bride Verified ladies. While there I got to finally meet I could immediately see how Sophie (and her team) would be appealing to a bride who is feeling a bit unsure about wearing makeup – she is so lovely, friendly and down to earth, you can’t help but get a bit of a girl crush on her! Below is Sophie on the left, and that’s me (Amanda) on the right.

Before I launch into my interview with Sophie, I have something exciting to share – The team at Harmony Skin and Beauty are generously giving away a one-on-one makeup lesson to one lucky Southern Bride reader – worth $90! So if you want some coaching on the right colours, expert application tips and friendly advice, then make sure you enter by commenting on this post – instructions right at the bottom with more details. If you rarely wear makeup, what does a makeup artist recommend for the wedding day? As with most things wedding, there’s no hard and fast rule that you have to wear makeup. So if you’re really concerned about wearing makeup, and just don’t want to – don’t! But if you do want to wear some makeup but you’re feeling anxious about how you’ll look, or a bit embarrassed about your lack of makeup knowledge, or perhaps you’ve had reactions to makeup products in the past, so you’re worried about your skin – then Sophie’s advice should put your mind at ease.

“First of all, makeup should be fun and not stressful”, Sophie says, “It’s about emphasising your natural beauty – but most of all, it’s about helping you feel comfortable and confident in your own skin!” Comfortable and confident were two words that came up again and again. That is the feeling you’re looking for. You want your makeup artist to give you confidence so you feel comfortable – whatever the makeup style you opt for. Is there a difference between how you would approach a makeup fan vs a makeup newbie? I asked Sophie if you should let the makeup artist know whether you’re not usually a makeup wearer, and her answer was yes. The makeup artist will approach a makeup fan and someone newer to makeup differently.

“Any makeup artist will look after a makeup fan and makeup ‘newbie’ in different ways. For someone who doesn’t wear makeup everyday, the key is ensuring they feel comfortable with how the makeup feels on their skin, the tones and colours used and the makeup styles applied (such as, if you aren’t used to eyeshadow, you may not be confident rocking a winged liner look and red lippy!) There is absolutely no problem with wearing minimal makeup on your wedding day, Sophie assured me. Sophie and her team are trained in doing minimal makeup that looks good for your photos – things like a little contouring, natural lips and eyes, and a bit of mascara. “When a bride doesn’t usually wear makeup for their everyday look, they’ll opt for more matt colours, dewy soft foundations and natural lipsticks instead.” Sophie emphasised that a good makeup artist wouldn’t leave a bride unhappy. Part of knowing if the bride is happy or not, is communicating with the makeup artist. This can mean being assertive, possibly sharing insecurities, and feeling vulnerable. You don’t want to be making these calls on your wedding day so it’s vitally important to have a makeup trial. Getting a makeup trial is extra important if you don’t usually wear makeup A common misconception about makeup trials can be that it is practice for the makeup artist the suggestion you have a trial is met with a bit of skepticism.

But a trial is more for your peace of mind than practice. There’s a few different reasons for your makeup trial: Will the makeup react with my sensitive skin? First of all, if part of the reason you don’t wear makeup is due to sensitive skin, the makeup trial is a great opportunity to check that there’s no irritations or reactions, Sophie explains. She also mentioned it is extremely rare to have a reaction if the makeup used is of good quality, professional and applied hygienically – like the Quoi and Priori mineral makeup ranges uses. Finding the right fit: making decisions before the wedding day Secondly, Sophie points out that the very last time you want to be making decisions, is on your wedding day!

You want to be able to sit back and relax, right? Your makeup trial is your opportunity to make all those decisions with the help and guidance of your makeup artist: “Perhaps you may opt for a powder foundation over a liquid, or decide you could wear a darker lippy than you thought. Maybe you might even want to try the false lashes too!” As she applies your makeup, your makeup artist will be explaining what she’s doing, why, and you might even pick up some tips for your own use (that’s how I started using a foundation brush instead of my fingers!). Getting comfortable with your makeup artist Sophie pointed out that you’re going to be spending the morning of your wedding with this person, literally working on your face, on a really emotionally-charged day. So you probably want to know them, right?!

Finding the right fit for you is important. You’ll start building rapport and a relationship with them from the first point of contact, so if you are feeling nervous or uncomfortable from the start follow your instincts. For more information on how to pick the perfect makeup artist, follow You may need to be vulnerable, and always be open and honest with your makeup artist. They are caring people – that’s why they are in this position – so don’t be afraid to share how you’re feeling.

A major part of your trial is giving feedback. If you’re worried that your eyeshadow is too dark, or cheeks are too pink – you need to say. She won’t be offended. Giving feedback on your makeup after wearing it for a while As I mentioned above, a big reason for your makeup trial is giving feedback on how you feel about your makeup. But you’re not limited to sharing your feelings only while you are having your trial appointment. Once you’re used to the feel of the makeup, and see how it wears, you can email or ring your makeup artist with any thoughts or concerns that come up. If you wanted to, Sophie recommends visiting your Mum and/or a trusted friend, to hear their thoughts on your makeup. If you are happy with an aspect but a friend isn’t, go with your gut on it.

You’re the one wearing it, you need to feel confident. You can bring a trusted friend to the trial – but don’t go overboard and bring everyone along. You need space to decide how you feel about your makeup! Do let your makeup artist know if you’re going to bring a friend (or your Mum) – just so they have enough room for them.

When should I get my makeup trial? This question comes up all the time. It’s simple: whenever works for you. Sophie has some brides book in over 6 months before their wedding day – because that may be the only weekend the bride-to-be can get to Alexandra to see her. Other brides may book in the week before their day. It seems like a lot of brides book it for the day of their hen’s night – that way they have their makeup done nicely already. Some brides who visit Harmony make use of a voucher they are given to have a boudoir photo shoot with local photographer,.

Once they’ve had their trial, they can book in to see Lisa and she can help put together really beautiful images – perfect present for your new hubby! Skin care: Making the most of your natural assets If you’re going minimal with your makeup, you might want to focus on your skin.

If your skin is healthy, radiant and glowing, then you may feel as though you need less coverage with your makeup (I know if my skin was perfect I wouldn’t bother with makeup at all). What I like about the makeup artists at are that they are also beauty therapists. This means they are educated in skin care and treatments.

I was surprised when Sophie told me it’s mostly what you do at home that can affect your skin. Skin health is 70% internal (such as what we put into our bodies) and 30% external (the treatments and products we use on our skin).so what does that really mean for us?. Your Lifestyle – water intake, food, stress, essential fatty acids and zinc – play a huge part in how your skin looks.

So up your water, eat well, and relax a heap more!. Routine and Consistency – Using the right cleanser and moisturiser for your skin type – and doing it daily – is SO important, Sophie emphasised. A beauty therapist can give you the information, tools and treatments – but it’s up to you to stick at them long term. Treatments – As well as your day to day care of your skin, the beauty therapists at Harmony can recommend more specialised treatments to treat individual skin concerns, including Facials, Prodermal Peels, IPL Skin Rejuvenation and Collagen Induction. The real results of these treatments are seen when you are maintaining your skin afterwards too, and can be the answer to solving any skin issues you want addressed before the day.

Remember, your skin is your largest organ, so what you put in your body and on your skin affects it. Will you wear makeup on your wedding day? Whether you go dramatic or minimal, you need to feel comfortable and confident. I hope Sophie’s tips and advice will help when you’re deciding what to do about makeup on your wedding day. Do you have any burning questions about wedding day makeup, skincare or beauty treatments? Pop your questions below and we will help where we can. Want to WIN a personalised makeup lesson with Harmony, worth $90?

Keen to learn more about makeup? Harmony Skin and Beauty are generously giving away a personalised makeup lesson, worth $90, to one lucky Southern Bride reader! “With expert guidance from our makeup artists, we give you the right colours and techniques so you can recreate your own look at home. Our relaxation room is a special area designed to allow you to enjoy a private makeup consultation and sample the products with your makeup artist.” How to enter: Leave a comment below ( under the heading “Leave a Reply”) – share your best tip for great skin, ask the girls at Harmony a question, or just thank Sophie for her advice. All comments received by the end of 21 October 2016 will go in the draw, and the winner will be announced on the after the winner has been drawn. Make sure you’re following them on Facebook so you don’t miss the announcement.

Thank you so much for this post, it was really helpfull 🙂 I am a Beauty Therapist but being in the business doesn’t make me more confident on what I should do on my wedding day I’m good at taking care of others but not of myself! I use to be a makeup lover but my husband-to-be don’t like it, so since I’m with him I almost stop completely wearing it I’m so confuse about what I’ll do on our wedding day!

I’ll definetely come soon say hello to the team of Harmony, really interested to have advice from fellow beauty therapist!

Kelly Thompson is currently working on a memoir-in-progress entitled 'Oh Darling Girl.' Just as the narrator gets sober, one of her two barely adolescent daughters descends into addiction and rebels against her mother's newfound lifestyle of recovery. The narrator is instantly challenged to grapple not only with her own recovery but how to save her daughter or deal with the fact that she might not be able to. As she struggles to face down a transgenerational legacy of violence, addiction, and shame, the lives of grandchildren hang in the balance and heartbreaking choices must be made. Kelly lives in Denver, Colorado in the sunshine of the spirit.

I like to tell how she cried before she was born. Even before she emerged from the birth canal, she began wailing. And it is hard not to because she came second, after her sister, who was born silent. So it was the sound of her cry, like electricity, that connected us at the very first.

As it was the sound of her sister’s silence that remains, even now, loudest, the way it lies just beneath the beating of my heart. There’s a thunder in that silence. I was seventeen when the first girl came. Two days worth of labor. My water broke first and so they induced it. I was a tiny thing. Maybe one hundred twenty pounds eight plus months pregnant.

They hooked me up to monitors, IVs, oxygen. I was a child. “I’ve changed my mind,” I said, finally.

“I’m not going to do this.” And I really thought I could just get up and leave. Someone wiped my face with a washcloth. In the delivery room, the nurse who admonished me, “You wanted this baby.

Now you have it!” was sent out of the room after I pulled her surgical cap off and broke the IV line in my arm, blood trickling behind it. I became an animal giving birth to a human. A loss of consciousness, finally, and when I came to, a lone doctor in the room, perhaps an intern, pushing on my stomach. “Where is my baby?” I asked, confused by the sudden emptiness. “You had a girl.” He said.

We have to get out the afterbirth.” I don’t know if it was days or hours before I saw her, my first girl. She was born not breathing. While I lay unconscious, she was resuscitated, incubated, whisked away. The second daughter was born in violence. Her father battering us the night before her birth. The only memory that dark room, my long hair, his fist in my stomach. With the morning came my water and, because this had happened with the first one, I knew it was time to give birth.

Again, I was induced. This time labor was fast.

Photography: Kelly Thompson Hair And Make-up: Sophie Turner

She was born within three hours after induction, screaming into the world. Born the same hour and minutes as the month and day. At ten twenty-seven on ten twenty-seven. She announced her arrival. Daughters know how to break mothers. Or is it the other way around? We break each other.

I was a child mother. My girls anchored me to the ground.

Like twin soulmates they swirled around the satellite of me, their mother, and kept me from drifting into oblivion and space. Daughters are not supposed to be the anchors.

But mine were. I don’t know how to say sorry for that. Because they still are. I am the great grand-daughter of a witch, and so my daughters are her great-great- granddaughters. A lineage hard to come from, that of the designated witch. And that of child mothers. One daughter has distanced herself from me of late.

Both have broken my heart. My blond and brunette daughters, day and night, green eyes and brown. The loves of my life. Irretrievably, endlessly, broken. When she was nine and I married their stepfather, the eldest said, “Now we won’t be the three musketeers anymore, Mom.” She looked steadily at me, her soul spilling from her eyes. “We will always be the three musketeers.” I told her. But she wants nothing to do with me lately.

‘I am not your friend,” she recently said. She means she can’t take care of me. You see, she used to, child of a child mother. Neither of us are children now.

The second daughter calls to tell me her five year old girl’s latest antics. She is strong willed, like you were, I tell her. We shake our heads a little, but secretly, we both take pride in her strength. I can’t solve this mother daughter puzzle.

My own mother is no longer close. I dream that, because my daughters each have a daughter, they will comprehend the way I love them someday.

They will get it like a bomb going off in their chest. The stars will align and the universe will right itself anew. But there is no guarantee.

There is really nothing but this river we come from, in which we swim, which swims in us, its tributaries of shame. How I love them. With National Poetry Month in mind, as well as the start tomorrow to a poetry workshop, and an upcoming poem a day challenge, I pulled out some of my favorite poets. This poem by Alice Ostriker struck me because it captures the fire that burns inside at the same time it shines a wide angle lens across a life halfway spent.

Writing is my vocation and called me when I was six. Now I am sixty and have finally answered the call. I try not to look back, but reading this, I saw the child, the teenager, the young adult and woman I have been. How small I was, in my own thin coat: VOCATION To play among the words like one of them, Lit from within—others can see it, Never oneself— She slips like a cat through traffic, A girl alone downtown For the first time, subway fare in her purse, Fear of losing it Clamping her chest, Wind whipping tears from her eyes, Fried grease and gasoline in her nose, shoes and Jewelry in shopwindows. A spike Of freedom stitching her scalp— Though she dreads the allergy shot at the clinic She feels herself getting brave. Now it begins to snow on Central Park South And a flight of pigeons Whim up from a small pile of junk in the gutter Grey, violet, green, a predatory shimmer. The marquee of the Paris Theater Looks at the rapturous child Through downcast lashes, condescendingly.

I watch her over a distance of fifty years. I see how small she is in her thin coat. I offer a necklace of tears, orgasms, words Alice Ostriker. I will drop the guilt that wants to suck me into the abyss.

Photography: Kelly Thompson Hair And Make-up: Sophie Skelton

I will forgive all my sins – even the worst ones where I harmed another – to write about the way out for all of us, to show the great light that cracked me into this new life of passion, love, and ALL OF ME expressing. I will drop my hands, wash my face, and dance., motherfuckers. If you do not see or recognize me, I will shake the dust from my feet and Let.You.Walk. I have arrived.

The big “I” of me, not the small and I am fucking tall. My heart is HUGE and it is big enough now, big enough for it ALL. I will not be small. I am here to love everything.

Don’t be afraid of me. I will release all fear like pebbles into the ocean. Look at that Big Water. It has come for me and I’m going to ride the waves all the way to the tallest peak. I will ride and go high and then descend as water droplets, as spray, foam on the very edges, god damn it.

I am every single piece of sand and I am the water licks at the edges. I am moving with the air and the rivers and the rain and I am Giving It Up. I am not wasting a single fucking breath. Watch my fingers. Moving on the page.

I was born in the fifties. It was such a confusing world, even then.

By the time I was six, it was the sixties. Being raised in a religious cult-like sect made it even more confusing. When I was nine we moved to the suburbs, a big deal. There were about three models of brick homes, or homes that looked brick, anyway. Ours was the plain vanilla box version but we were very proud of it. We had a lot on the corner of Linda Sue and Leonard Lane. Since my father’s name was Leonard and my oldest sister’s name was Linda it was meant to be.

Being a religious kid, I gawked at the sophisticated ways of neighbors, my mouth hanging open, greedily drinking in a world I couldn’t imagine, but secretly longed for. We dressed like the Lord’s people, so I felt dowdy, plain, and even naked, next to Binky and Pat, the neighborhood party couple. Binky was a pro baseball player and he and Pat had a sleek convertible parked in their driveway. Pat wore silky scarves and dark sunglasses before Jacqueline Kennedy, looking glamorous with her nude lipstick and matching nails.

Binky and Pat threw wild parties with another couple, Lou and Betty, from the neighborhood. Once, in the early morning hours, I saw Binky, clearly intoxicated, wandering down the street with Pat on his shoulders, whooping and hollering. Betty and Lou stood on their concrete porch laughing and waving cocktail glasses as the rising sun cast a pink glow all around. President Kennedy was shot. I was in fourth grade and we all laid our heads on our desk in a moment of silence. I was too young to understand anything but the dead silence underneath the quiet sobbing of my older sisters as it echoed through the rest of the day, the weeks, and months, even years that followed.

It was like a warning, that silence, full of dread, covered over by the hysteria to come: the manic flood of young people, the blasting beat of rock and roll accompanied by the drifting sweet smell of patchouli oil and marijuana, into the streets. My friend’s brother was sent to Vietnam. She had scant information, garnered from conversations by adults not meant for her ears. My sister skipped school and, in a family scandal of huge proportions, was featured on the front page of the Rocky Mountain News wearing a mini skirt and picketing to change the school dress code. She had become sick of kneeling down before the school authorities to have the distance between the hem of her skirt and the top of her knee measured. My friend and I had no words for the fear we felt for our siblings, unnamed worries circled our heads like vultures.

When I went to Carol and Cheryl’s house to play, we got into their big sister’s make-up kit and I brushed mascara on my eyelashes, smeared lipstick on my lips. Their parents both worked so we had the house to ourselves. Carol and Cheryl put on records by Bobby Darin, again raided from their big sister’s stash, and we danced so hard to “Dream Lover,” replaying it over and over, that we fell, exhausted onto the floor, breathless with giggles. Then I tried to scrub all the makeup off before I went home where my parents would see it.