The man may have fatal character flaws . . . but he wears a GREAT lipstick.
It is undeniable that Nikolaj Znaider can CARRY the fully-made-up look!
Have readers seen any other man who can do it half so well?
Happily, Znaider does not confine himself to one shade of lipstick.
And, I believe, such is the right choice for him.
After all, why would a man want to restrict himself to painting his lips pink, and only pink, when he can wear other colors, too?
And with such flair!
In fairness, Znaider’s primary makeup designer deserves some credit, too. Her name is Mindy Saad.
Ms. Saad’s job cannot have been an easy one, because Znaider looks like one person while sporting makeup and like an entirely different person when caught “without”.
Admirable as is the work of Ms. Saad (whose clientele, Znaider aside, is overwhelmingly female), Znaider uses other makeup designers, too. Znaider’s makeup needs are too substantial to be satisfied by one—and only one—makeup artist.
In fact, I am going to reveal a secret: Andrew has been working, on and off, for more than three months, on a weblog post devoted to the subject of Znaider’s makeup design and makeup history.
It surely will be the only such entry on the worldwide web!
The post promises to be a veritable encyclopedia on the subject of Znaider and makeup, going back to the mid-1990s. The post will feature before-and-after photographs as well as comprehensive makeup-designer and photographic credits.
More enticing still, the post will include an analysis of Znaider’s rapid weight gains and losses since the early 2000s; his changing hair styles and hair colors (as will be seen, Znaider has laid out a small fortune in hair dye and home permanents over the years); and a history of the evolution of Znaider’s concert attire, from white-tie-and-tails at the beginning of his career, onto three succeeding generations of what can only be described as bizarre, Liberace-style getups, until arriving at the cheap, off-the-rack business suits he wears today. (Znaider’s fees are much, much, much lower than Anne-Sophie Mutter’s or Maxim Vengerov’s fees—and Znaider has far more urgent uses for his cash than spending it on concert attire.)
Andrew’s post will conclude with a series of photographs of Znaider over the last six years, in which the photographs will demonstrate, almost month-by-month, the fewer and fewer highs and more and more lows of Znaider’s life—and the vast deterioration that has set in since 2006. Some of the photographs, in fact, are painfully sad to examine; they almost make me feel sorry for Znaider, although his problems are entirely of his own making.
The bounteous cornucopia of delights described above will be anchored by what may prove to be Andrew’s funniest narrative ever. I have seen the first couple of drafts, in the works since April, and I practically went into conniption fits both times.
Andrew says he won’t have time to finish the project until sometime in September, because he has too many briefs to write at work. I believe, however, that patience will be rewarded.
Until Andrew’s weblog post emerges, readers will have to sustain themselves by imagining they are in Caracas, Venezuela, tomorrow night, attending a benefit concert for one of Hugo Chavez’s favorite charities. Znaider, heavily made-up and wearing a cheap suit, will—according to Reuters—be whisked through the pothole-riven streets of Caracas, passing numerous hand-sprayed anti-Semitic signs that mar the building facades of the decaying metropolis, finally to be delivered at the door of the main concert hall, where Znaider will perform alongside Chavez’s leading propagandistic tool to the outside world, the Simon Bolivar Orchestra.
This assumes, of course, that Znaider will not be the victim of an anti-Semitic assault on his person between now and tomorrow night.
This also assumes that Znaider will not cancel at the last minute, which he has been exceedingly prone to do the last couple of years.
Tickets to the concert are still available.
The exercise will be repeated on Sunday.