Squawk Radio

Among my many non-productive talents, I've always been really good with makeup. I love to give people makeovers, and I've been on a lifelong search to find the perfect shade of pink lipstick. Since I make an effort to keep up with the trends, I tried the retro look this morning . . . you know, the old Hollywood glam style: red lips, powdered nose, false eyelashes.

It's been twenty years since I've worn false eyelashes. I used to be very skilled at applying them, and I figured it was like riding a bike . . . one of those things you never forget.

Armed with tweezers, lash glue, a toothpick and a pair of MAC false eyelashes, I went to work. Twenty minutes later, I had nearly poked an eye out, I had smeared glue everywhere including the mirror, and one set of lashes was stuck to the middle of my cheek. Disgusted, I left the whole mess in the bathroom and went to my computer to start work.

A few minutes ago, my husband Greg walks into my office with a little clump of fake lashes on his thumb. "Lisa . . . what the hell is this?" he asks.

"That's one of my false eyelashes. Why?"

"I just tried to kill it."

I think I'll just stick with the natural look.