The beginning of Sales
It took me almost an hour to put on my makeup. I had given up my twiggy painted eyelashes for a fake Geraldine Chaplin’s black beauty marks. For her they were real moles under her eyes. I wanted a different look and style. In the salon a lot of women accepted my flow. Everyday I would greet one woman who came into the salon to put her makeup on. She acknowledged my make-up and moved on to have hers done. Six days a week, at an exorbitant price, she came. Sundays she faked it on her own. I can’t imagine not washing my makeup off for a day. How could she? Miss Ette, a french professional makeup artist, called in sick one day. The salon manager Miss Lanye looked at me and said, “you do makeup Go!” That was the day I became the woman’s daily makeup stylist. No licensing was required, only talent. I had talent: The daily client also walked out with a huge bag of makeup by Kenneth Battele also known as Mr.Kenneth. He was the makeup artist for Jacqueline Kennedy, Marilyn Monroe and Audrey Hepburn among his famous women patrons. He was the hair stylist who defined a generational style: stiff coiffures and teased hair with what look like a rat's nest ball to support their sprayed and sparkly bun style. After that experience I was dubbed the woman who could probably sell the Brooklyn Bridge. “Wow! What fun” as I watched wealth and elegance appear before me.
I really was so honest and sweet as a young woman I didn’t recognize when they told me to tell clients that my tight curly hair was a permanent wave, to sell more treatments. I had cut my hair by myself with a razor and my curls were natural; any mistake didn’t matter. Expensive stylists had no time for me to get a cut. Occasionally, when the manager tried to sell my cut and style to build clientele for permanent waves: I agreed with her; however I was going to change my hair so as not to feel dishonest, to drop their lie. I then created a new style by slapping gel to straighten my hair, looking more like a flapper.
Still harboring wishes for glamor, the magic which I grasp at in my dreams began in the salon. I told my adopted mother figure and friend in NY City that I wanted to be rich and famous. She said,” Oh Donna, you would be far too dangerous”. I can see now how my life has evolved, how true that was. There were lies everywhere as I grew into being a woman in New York City. The power of the City started becoming too much for me. But the City remained a part of my spirit:
Eventually I decided to go home to Rochester, NY. My brother tried to fix me up with a local well known lawyer, he was a friend of my older brother. Tony Leonardo was a very handsome and striking man. I don’t know if he knew that and my mothers sported those wishes. Later
I settled down and moved to Buffalo, Tony came from Rochester to defend David Bowey on an illegal marijana charge. Tony was closer to my age and I remembered our time socializing with my brother. Then years later the headlines read he was being charged and tried for his association to the murder and robbery of Brinks truck driver, where the guard was killed. Life changed for him, he was now in a different place, prison and disbarred. Memories and lies of another kind showed me when I had sat in a dark and dimly lit bar and restaurant which I felt was wrong, my being frightened of him was a good thing. Tony probably knew I was not for him and I was saved from the dark life of dating a man who sat with me at the Blue Gardenia. I was free of any of that attachment to illegal relationships and more lies. My instinct handled it, fear knew Tony was wrong. I was to be my brother's younger sister only.
