I'm not a huge shopper. I used to be. When I made a decent living and could afford to do more than just window shop. Besides, to be honest there is just not that much I really need. I dress Seattle 'business casual' at work. I don't even need to dress that nicely if I don't choose to. It's a two man office these days and customers don't pop in, so jeans are just fine. But even so, I like to look presentable. I think the casual dress in this town can go too far sometimes. And even if a girl doesn't need much, it's still nice to get a little something new once in awhile.
In preparing for my upcoming vacation, I took stock of my warm weather wardrobe to see what I had from years past. What is still in style (luckily most of it since we're in an 'everything goes' fashion mode these days), what is still in tact (you know how it is, you put something away the last time you wore it back in late August and it had a stain on it, now it's set in for good), and what still fits. Ahhh....the trickier issue. I spent my Saturday evening trying on several outfits all the time sucking my gut in until I was exhausted and couldn't take it anymore. I put everything back in the closet and went downtown today (after my Russian Natalia Nazi Cardio/Body Sculpt Blast, of course!).
First stop, mascara. Harmless purchase. Didn't involve taking off my clothes. That's a good start to my shopping experience. Or so I thought. I go to the Lancome counter to get my usual waterproof mascara. Should only take a second. I know exactly what I want. No muss no fuss. In and out, right? As one salesgirl (or are they called "makeup specialists" these days?) retreats to go find my particular mascara, another one approaches me and advises that if I buy one more item, I get a "gift." Funny, how I'm immediately sucked into the idea of getting something for free. How old am I?
Since I'm still waiting for my mascara girl to return anyway, the other gal starts showing me some lip liners. Yes, I just ran out. I could use a new lip liner. Of course, I can. She proceeds to apply a nice berry something or other liner. It looks nice. But now the rest of my face needs something. She asks if she can put some eyeliner on my eyes too. I thought I had liner on my eyes already (I'm feeling a little insulted here). Silly me. Before I can say much of anything, she's got my head tilted back in a professional wrestler's headlock, coaching me to "look up, look to the side, don't move a muscle, keep your eyes open, don't flinch" while she is jabbing at me with a sharpened black pencil! I can feel my eyes fluttering and watering and I'm doing everything I can not to shove her off of me sending her sailing across the entire length of the department store. Am I at the makeup counter or the dentist?
Once she's adequately applied the liner on both my upper and lower lids, she decides my tinted moisturizer from Aveda is just not doing the job (second insult of the day) and slathers some Ecru 230 Natural Finishing Cream all over my face with a paintbrush attempting to cover up all my age spots and other imperfections. She follows this procedure up with a creamy blush that extends down my neck, a glossy coat of something that is suppose to make my 44 year old skin look 18 again, and she head back to my eyes. My eyes were just recovering from her prior attack. Where is that mascara girl by the way? I'm ready to be done with this experiment.
"Oh, I just can't take that awful green," she says. "I should have removed it right away." The "awful" green is the shadow the last girl sold me at the Shiseido counter six months ago, when I just went in to buy one item. Once she was satisfied with the shadow, she came at me with the final touch. The mascara. Again with the head tilt and 'tugging' action at my eye lashes. Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't all this pulling and tugging and poking at my very delicate eye area seem a bit abrasive? Aren't we suppose to be treating this area of our face with kit gloves?
When finally finished, she was oh so proud of her work. She handed me a mirror and announced how great my eyes looked. They actually "pop" now. Yeah, they pop. They feel like they are going to pop out of my head. I will admit that some of the work was attractive, but for the most part, I felt like a raccoon with spiders on her eyes. Far too much makeup for me. And all that heavy black...against my green (with bloodshot red) eyes, and light brown eyebrows (how did she miss those?) was just too much.
Off I trotted with my original mascara request, a lip liner, and a gift bag full of samples; one of them being makeup remover. How appropriate!
Next stop, bra fitting. Does the fun ever end?
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2 comments:
So, I hope you don't mind me reading your blog but I just kind of stumbled across it while reading Lucky Mom's blog. I use to cut her sons hair when I lived In Seattle....or Everett to be exact. Anyway, I find your stories VERY funny and can relate so well. Although we may have very different lives some aspects parallel like we were meant to be "blog friends." I once lived in an apartment where my upstairs neighbors had sex all the time. They were not shy about it either. I could hear everything....it was like porn without the picture.
And Yes...I too have had a makeup makeover trauma and was reminded so quickly why I don't wear that much makeup.
Good luck with your trip and good luck with your makeup!!!
Hi Keely! Thank you for reading my blog and for your comments. I appreciate them! Yeah, luckily we live in an area where the 'natural look' i.e. light makeup application, is embraced. Plus, I think men prefer it. I've never heard a man say "I think you need MORE makeup."
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