Letter from the Editor: March '06.

Facing Forward

W

hen I walked into Michael Thompson's photo studio, Eva Longoria was getting ready to leave. Her eyes were lined like an Italian movie star's,her hair was big and voluptuous, and as she double-kissed everyone good-bye, they all said, practically in unison, "What a sweetheart."

I am not a sweetheart, and this is especially true at a photo studio. I haven't sat for a portrait since 1991, when Allure was born. For 15 years, I cameup with excuses to avoid the deed, which is a pretty significant achievement in procrastination. I don't enjoy being scrutinized; I don't love the camera, and the feeling, apparently, is mutual.

Before we started, Paul Cavaco, Allure's creative director, asked me what my best side was. "You're funny," I replied. "It's the back of my head as I run out of here."

I apologized for my bad attitude and asked Michael to please not show me the Polaroids. And then I got the full Eva Longoria treatment: Garren fluffed my hair, Jin Soon Choi painted my nails, and Gucci Westman made my skin look impossibly fresh. As Al Green blasted from the stereo and Michael and Paul told jokes, I forgot to be self-conscious. And the Polaroids looked amazing.

In a way, that three-hour shoot was like a fast-action version of Allure's 15 years. Back in 1991, beauty was a subject that made most people, except perhaps pageant queens, uncomfortable. It was bubbleheaded and superficial, and often defeating and exclusive, too. When I approached writers and editors ...