Beautiful: Choi’s memories of being a young girl, no morethan six or seven, admiringly watching her mother apply makeup. “I have a very fashionable mother,” she says. “She takes pride in taking good care of herself, dressing nicely and wearing makeup.”
Terrifying: Choi’s memories of the visions andsensations she experienced almost every night when she awoke from sleepprematurely. Beginning at the age of four, Choi has been afflicted with sleepparalysis, a phenomenon in which, upon waking, a person’s brain is conscious,but the body remains motionless for up to several minutes.
Choi, like many people with sleep paralysis, hallucinatesotherworldly, menacing-looking creatures, some of them having multiple pairs ofeyes or limbs. And she has no choice but to lie in bed, helplessly observingthese horrors, until she regains the ability to move.
“My mom has it, too, and she always told me, ‘It’s normal.It’s just a friendly ghost,’” Choi recalls. “For a child, that isn’t a goodthing to hear. That’s why I always had trouble sleeping when I was a child,because I didn’t want to have to deal with it. And that made it worse, becausethe more tired you are, the more likely you’ll experience it. It’s a viciouscycle.
“The few years before I got married, every single night, Icould feel somebody sinking into my bed, grabbing onto my neck. I’d seeshadows, spiders everywhere. Eventually, I was so tired that I didn’t even knowhow to be afraid anymore.”
Choi’s sleep paralysis continued into adulthood, when shebegan what she assumed would be her lifelong career: teaching preschool-agedchildren at a Montessori institute. She never made it known that she found thework somewhat unfulfilling, primarily because she didn’t want to disappoint herparents, who had gone to great lengths—including moving the family to Canadafrom their native Macau—to ensure their daughter would have a better life.
As soon as I went to makeup school, I was just like, ‘Oh, my God, this is100-percent Mimi!
In the midst of her third year of teaching, “I was burnedout,” says Choi. “I still have a strong passion for children, but it wasn’t theright environment for me.”
It was during this time that her mother (who “sees rightthrough me,” says Choi) observed that her daughter would practice nail artalmost every night before going to bed.
“It wasn’t because I wanted to look pretty for work, butbecause it was a way for me to express myself.”
“My mom came into my room one night and said, ‘Why are youalways painting your nails before you sleep?’ I told her it was just a way forme to de-stress. And she said, ‘Do you think you’re going to be happy being apreschool teacher for 30 more years if you continue on this path?’ And thatmade me pause.”
Choi’s mother then said something entirely unexpected:“You’re only 28 years old. Even though you might think it’s too late for you tochange, it’s not.” She suggested that Choi take a year off from teaching toexplore other vocations she might be more passionate about. One of many randomideas was to attend makeup school.
“I thought, ‘Is that even a possibility?’” recalls Choi.“That got me excited.”
Choi scheduled a tour of a Vancouver school and “I fell inlove with it,” she says. “They were teaching prosthetics and character makeup,and my mind was blown. Within four days, I quit my job and changed my lifeforever.”
This revelation came as a shock to many of the people in herlife. Throughout her teenage years and as an adult, Choi’s approach to makeuphad been conservative, used primarily to cover blemishes. But once she beganattending makeup school, it quickly became apparent she had been suppressing aninnate creativity that was dying to be unleashed.
“It was as if for 28 years, I’d just been floating around,trying to please everyone around me. But as soon as I went to makeup school, Iwas just like, ‘Oh, my God, this is 100-percent Mimi!’ I could dress funky,wear extensions, curl my hair. … I was just so happy, and happiness doesn’tlie. I had no idea it was going to open up a side of my brain that I didn’teven know existed.”
Stevie Wonder famously remarked that he considers hisblindness a blessing—that his legendary music likely never would have beencreated if he had sight. Similarly, Choi credits her sleep-paralysis visionsfor inspiring the signature styles that eventually made her famous—inparticular, the repetition of facial and bodily features that are central tomany of her makeup looks.
“I used to see multiples of everything: eyes, hands, holeson the body everywhere. But the recurrence of eyes in my work isn’t justbecause of sleep paralysis; it’s something I’ve always been intrigued by,because the eyes have a lot of details in them. I always use them as a kind ofmarker for me, to see if I’ve improved. If you look at my eyes from 10 yearsago, they’re nothing like the eyes I draw now. And they’re a very importantpart of my journey, because they were central to one of the first looks thatwent viral and jumpstarted my career in 2014.”
When I began attending makeup school, I didn’t know where it was going to take me; Ijust wanted to perfect my skill.
At the time of this writing, Choi has more than two millionfollowers on both Instagram and TikTok, and the singularity of her work has ledto commissions from globally recognized brands as well as entertainmentcompanies. She also travels the world to teach masterclasses, some of whichhave been attended by veteran makeup artists she idolizes.
“When I began attending makeup school, I didn’t know whereit was going to take me; I just wanted to perfect my skill,” says Choi. “Ithought it was just beauty and fashion makeup that I would pursue. But itbecame something I never could have imagined, and it’s better than I everexpected. It’s my calling and I’m very grateful I found it.”
