photo credit<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\nDespite standing for upwards of eight hours a day, we were required to wear skyscraper heels, leading to severe ‘ball-burn.’ \u00a0“My balls are killing me!” we’d exclaim, slipping off our stilettos behind the counter and reaching down to massage our poor stockinged feet. Stepping onto the train in heels and white consultant’s labcoat for the ninety minute Kent commute, we’d get sidelong glances from the other passengers who were trying to decide if we were a) nurses or b) fetish escorts.<\/p>\n
The silent stares of the train were soon replaced by pumping house music the minute the tube spat us out into the West End and we’d assumed our positions behind our respective beauty counters; despite being merely an arm’s length apart, each had a different beat like the various rooms in a nightclub.<\/p>\n
The loud music, along with the thousands of bright lights, was a set-up I’m sure that was intended to disorientate the customer to such an extent that they’d fling their purse open and empty the contents onto the counter, wild-eyed and desperate to escape the chaos. It worked. Such was the momentum and buzz of the beauty hall that the decision to part with half a week’s wages on a few frivolous frilly-packaged items was made in a millisecond. We’d expertly wrap their purchases in tissue paper origami-style, spritz them with perfume, then whisk away the banknotes before they had time to question the triple-figured total.<\/p>\n
If footfall was low, on a Monday morning for example, we’d drum up business with a few deft demos: our modus operandi to hit our outlandish sales targets would be to stealthily grab an unsuspecting passer-by, guide them purposefully to a stool before carefully but quickly applying the latest season’s shadows and a glossy pink lip, giving the illusion that perfect application is effortless. Sometimes they’d put up an initial struggle, in which case the protocol was to politely but firmly hold one arm whilst casually tucking a tissue into their collar, before making up only one side of their face. Then you could relax your grip safe in the knowledge that they’d have to stay put whilst you evened out their face, or else risk looking like a stroke victim as they shuffled off half-done.<\/p>\n
If they didn’t buy, well no matter, as by now a crowd of ladies had gathered to watch the performance, and if the ‘model’ didn’t loosen the purse strings, then you could guarantee some of the others would.<\/p>\n
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