Transform yourself into a beeyootiful princess...

...at home.

This happens in Tokyo as in New York and, I would wager, as in any city that has both women and subways. Every so often someone pulls out some makeup  - maybe just a mascara, maybe a full traveling vanity - and goes to town.

Whether it's a touch-up or an overhaul, I can't help watching.

It's partly the pull of a good before-and-after story. A powder puff or some blush on a brush is nothing-to-see-here; I'll probably go back to my crossword puzzle. But the danger of some of the other implements! It's like watching a drunk guy wander toward traffic. You can't look - but you can't not look. Have you ever gotten close to a mascara wand? Close enough to see the individual bristles? I've been known (I know, I know) to pass a few furtive swipes through my lashes when the train is stopped at a station. But bringing that row of tarred, sharp bristles within a blink of an open eye on a crowded, moving train - elbows, swerves, and sudden stops be damned - is drama. Pointy pencils for eyebrows and eyelids are only slightly less riveting. If she doesn't actually lose an eye, she could easily end up with a crazed Cleopatra line around it. The stakes are different, but still high, for lipliner pencils and lipsticks. Miss the recorded announcement that "the train will sway, please be careful," and people will be asking all day "Why so serious?"

I'm not bothered by people playing beauty parlor on the train the same way I am by, say, nail clipping or sinus clearing. Unless you are really clumsy with the concealer, it strikes me as a relatively victimless crime.

I think a better warning would be "apply makeup at your own risk."