it is a Wednesday afternoon in late July, and I'm deep in conversation with Deborah Altizio, a freelance makeup artist, about the relative merits of various mascaras, as though I've never bought one before. She prefers CoverGirl, the one in the orange tube. "LashBlast, I think it's called," she adds, tilting my face up, the better to swipe a smoky shadow on my lids. What about the much-touted Clé de Peau concealer, I ask. Does she think it's as good as it's cracked up to be?