On my last day before leaving for Papua New Guinea, the girls at school gave me a present.
It was a shoebox that had pictures of models from glossy magazines cut out and pasted all over it. On a nest of tissue paper inside were lots different make-up things. It must have cost a fortune.
I felt like an imposter, receiving a gift like that. The other girls looked mature and sophisticated when they put on make-up; I just looked like a clown. I liked Pot o’Gloss though, because it tasted like delicious sweet berries. It was usually gone from my lips in about three minutes because that’s about how long it took me to lick it all off.
In any event, I never ever used any of it because I would have felt totally out of place wearing make-up in the highlands of Papua New Guinea.
It only dawned on me years later that this lavish present had not been bought but that in reality, light fingers must have pocketed the items from department store shelves.