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Mark Edio

Shu Uemera, 121 Greene St., nr. Prince St.; 212-979-5500

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That’s quite a hairdo.
I look like a chicken. A sea horse. I don’t think I’m beautiful.

Is there pressure to look perfect in a cosmetics store?
There’s an obligation to look fashionable and clean. I like the schoolboy-meets-rock-and-roll look. I should probably get manicures more often because I work with my hands all the time.

Do you wear Shu makeup?
I’ll do an eighties streak with eyeliner. I’ve worn the fake lashes, not the $1,000 mink ones. Everything in my medicine cabinet is Shu, except my toothpaste.

Are you more vain than the average New Yorker?
I’m 25, and I’m not terrified of wrinkles, but I apply eye cream day and night to prevent crêpe-y, dinosaur-skin folds.

You hold mirrors up to women all day. What do you hear most?
“I look like hell.” New York women don’t have time to dillydally. They’re hands-down, balls-out—they know what they want.

How do you get people to agree to a makeover?
I’m animated. I’ll be like, “Get over here, sit down!” I have a 100 percent success rate. It gets on my nerves when customers don’t listen to my expertise. Foundation can become harmful; an eyelash curler can become like a scissor. It’s like taking away their security blankets.


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