THE CHUTZPAH THAT MAKES US GLAM
Viola Levy explores the sense of glamorous selfbelief that some of us seem to exude — and the products to create it
GROWING UP in a non-religious Jewish household, I consider myself Jewish in the cultural sense. British culture is (to me at least) very different from the Jewish culture that represents the world of my family. When I’m with my relatives or other Jewish people; I feel I can bring out certain traits of my personality, which I instinctively tone down in other social settings where I’m suddenly more reserved and “English” without even realising it. It’s a code switching habit that’s hard to kick.
But certain traits manage to break through, no matter the situation, and one of them is chutzpah. Chutzpah as many readers know, is not exactly arrogance, more like guts and gumption. And there’s no bolder way to channel this than through your beauty look made evident by the many glamorous Jewish women throughout history — think Barbra Streisand (circa
Funny Girl), Goldie Hawn, Lisa Bonet, Zsa Zsa Gabor, Lauren Bacall, Tracee Ellis Ross, Natalie Portman, Rachel
Weisz. And we mostly have examples in our own families. I recently stumbled across a photo of my Auntie Shirley in the 1960s sporting the most magnificent beehive hairdo I’ve ever encountered.
It’s what led me to my eventual career as a beauty journalist —something I’ve always taken for granted and never really thought to write about, despite having done this job for over a decade. While I was working on the beauty desks of glossy magazines, my other colleagues would write vividly about childhood memories of pilfering Great Aunt Mildred’s makeup bag; or the scented lip-gloss they wore in boarding school — but I never once thought to write about my own Jewish upbringing and how this influenced my love of beauty. This especially hit home having just read David Baddiel’s brilliant polemic Jews Don’t Count; of how while other minority cultures are starting to be quite rightly represented, celebrated and defended, Jews and Jewish culture still seem to linger on the sidelines in a lot of ways. So recently I’ve started writing about my Jewishness and how it influences my love of beauty, not just for this paper but for mainstream publications too.
So back to the chutzpah — that irreverent, endearing self-confidence that colours our culture, no doubt born out of centuries living in survival mode. When my greatgrandparents arrived as refugees in the UK, they “faked it till they made it” and chutzpah was a key ingredient in doing so. It’s a trait that has certainly been passed down through many generations of my own family — myself included, and nowhere is this more evident that with our beauty regimes.
I appreciate not everyone wants to wear makeup in lockdown and I totally understand why. But for me, just to retain for some sense of normality, I’ve been putting on a full face every morning, not just so I have chutzpah to get through the day, but as a tribute to the exuberant women who brought me up. For those readers who like to wear their chutzpah on their sleeve, here are a few of my favourite beauty heroes — all of which will help lift the spirits in lockdown and beyond…
Charlotte Tilbury Hot Lips in
Kim KW (£25) Everyone bangs on about red lipstick being the height of glamour, but I find it too much of a faff. Not only is nude lipstick low-maintenance it’s like having perfect eyebrows — it can transform a face without dominating it. This shade lifts my olive complexion like no other, packed with a nourishing, non-drying formula that has a glossy sheen that’s not too 90s girl band (unless that’s the look you’re going for).
Sculpted by Aimee Connolly’s Liquid Lights in Gilded Glow
(£13) When I’ve woken up with a complexion that resembles a wornout schmatter, a few drops of this highlighter on the cheeks and just above the eyebrows make a world of difference.
Rimmel Exaggerate Liquid
Eyeliner in Black (£5.99) For a rideor-die liquid eyeliner, you can’t go wrong with Rimmel. Scribbling this on before a 9am Zoom meeting stops me from looking like a Death Row inmate.
Hourglass Caution Extreme Lash Mascara (£25) I crave mascara like some people crave cigarettes. It was one of the first beauty products I ever tried — and it’s been making me happy ever since. A few coats are all you need for lashes that look like they belong in a George Michael music video.
Ormonde Jayne
Tiare (£160) If I ever have a son and he has a barmitzvah, this is the perfume I’m going to splash out on. (And wear my hair in a magnificent backcombed beehive.) This sparkling blend of citrus, floral and musk is like nothing else on the market, and for me is pure chutzpah in a bottle.
My refugee greatgrandparents faked it till they made it, and chutzpah was key