Morbid Makeover - Planning Your Funeral Makeup

Everyone has their morbid side. I, unlike many people choose to indulge mine. When one of the most vain women on the planet caters to those dark thoughts, my biggest worry is how I will look at my funeral.

I cannot entrust this task to anyone that I know. My sisters would have me in blue eyeshadow even before I took my last breath. My husband would have me sans makeup because he rarely sees me that way. My brother would have me in Army-style camouflage face paint, and my mother thinks that the picture of me on Halloween dressed as a hooker is the best one she has.

So, while other people are busy making living wills and advance directives, I had to come up with a plan for my post-mortem cosmetic care. My last public appearance, if you will.

First, I selected my favorite photograph of myself. If you don't have a good picture, have one made. This going to be your starting point, as well as your only reference point to what you looked like in life. This step ensures that you will not leave this life looking like Bozo the clown.

We have all been to a funeral where someone exclaims "She looks so natural!" (translation: She needs more makeup.), or "So life-like!" (translation: Bride of Chucky), and that is the last thing that I want. I examined my makeup table carefully, and went shopping for doubles of the products that I use on a daily basis. While I was shopping, I could not resist buying a makeup tote just for the occasion...pink and black skulls. Morbid, I know. Feel free to customize your container, have fun with it.

The next step was to have my favorite picture enlarged, and I proceeded to make post it notes as to what product went where, and how much. I included a very detailed description of how to get my hair exactly the way that I like it. Seriously, what is a good makeup job worth if you are stuck with big Nashville hair? The enlarged photo, pasted with post-its, and all beauty products went in the tote.

Next came the most important step to make sure that no mistakes were made concerning my final wishes. I wrote a letter to the random cosmetologist that the funeral home undoubtedly employs. In this letter, I expressed my respect for his/her chosen profession. I included facts about me, and my personal style. After all, this person did not know me when I was alive, but I wanted to give them a feel for what kind of person I had been. I was also sure to thank this unknown cosmetologist profusely for adhering to my final wishes. Finally, I placed a $100 tip in the envelope, because this is going to be the last beauty treatment that I was to receive.

I always make sure to keep my manicure and pedicure updated, so that would not be a problem. All that was left was deciding what to wear. I am determined that I will not go down in some kind of matronly frock, so a hot pink, one shouldered Ed Hardy dress it was. Now everything is ready for my final big event.

Seriously, dealing with our own mortality is tough, and it causes wrinkles. Sometimes is helps to focus on the things that we can control, and you might as well have fun with it.