March 22, 2007:
Target Demographic
I’m getting to the age where I’m an extremely easy mark for late-night beauty infomercials. Suddenly years of ignoring my skin and figure have ambushed me, and I’m feeling all drudgy and timeworn.
I’ve never been one for expensive beauty products. I get my hair cut at Supercuts, or I cut it myself, and aside from the occasional fancy powder or lipstick, I’m strictly a drugstore cosmetics girl. I rarely wear makeup, so it seems idiotic to funnel a ton of cash into beauty products. If I’m not going to wear it anyway, I may as well buy it at the dollar store or the Target clearance endcap, right?
Except lately, I’ve been feeling kind of vulnerable about my appearance, and therefor vulnerable to impulsive, desperate beauty purchases I’m unlikely to use for more than a week.
For instance. Last night at 2am, I had my hands full spinning (making yarn, not exercising) and was unable to click back to the guide when the Tivoed show I was watching ended and regular live TV popped back up. I wound up with five minutes of a Sheer Cover infomercial. It’s a knockoff of Bare Minerals, which I know through similar DVR mishaps, and which I almost purchased last year, before I came to my senses and remembered I don’t wear makeup. But the Sheer Cover was like half the price (plus it had B-list stars like Alyssa Milano and Melissa Gilbert pimping it; I’m a sucker for also-rans, too) and before I snapped out of it, I rushed to my computer and ordered some. I’m such a chump. But I want to be pretty, too!
I probably wouldn’t have taken the bait if I had watched the whole thing. I flipped it off when they got to the sickening "heartfelt stories from audience members about how Sheer Cover has changed their lives" portion of the infomercial. I heard a few seconds of earnest, moist-eyed testimony from some sad sack who washed her face after her husband went to sleep because she didn’t want him to see her without makeup–and I knew all this Oprah hogwash would make me lose my beauty boner, so I quit spinning and changed the channel before she started sobbing or something.
My only saving grace is that I am the sort of person who will return something if I’m "not completely satisfied." I consider a satisfaction guarantee to be a form of dare.
So yes, I’ve become a complete beauty sucker, at least by my personal standards. Last time I was in Lawrence, I bought some kind of lip treatment that’s supposed to fix the little dry lines around my lips, so I won’t end up with fruit punch mouth whenever I wear lipgloss. (That was a $4 Target clearance item, and it actually seems to work, so I’m not feeling too sheepish about that one.) And I bought 5 clearance lipsticks that I haven’t even opened. Maybe I’ll wear one today.
In my half-assed quest for eternal youth, I’ve also discovered a marvelous new beauty secret called washing my face. It actually makes my skin look nice! Who’d've ever thunk it? Luckily, I have a lifetime of face-washing materials on hand from my days of Walgreens All-in-One Rebate stockpiling and Target clearance endcap hoarding.
(I’ve mentioned Target clearance endcaps three times in this post. I’m such a whore for Target. Ooh! Maybe Mom will want to hit the Targets this weekend!)
I have another new beauty secret that is going to remain a secret. It’s brilliant.
Oh, but so the whole reason I decided to share my infomercial-based shame is that I think I’m going to do a full disclosure confessional on all my purchases, starting now- I’ll even resurrect Stupid Crap I Bought Last Week as my confessional–because I’ve been feeling myself edging toward the deep end. Money is very tight, and I’m contributing a disproportionately small percentage, yet I spent a ton of it this week. All the expensive stuff was for Yarn School (yay! Yarn School), and it was a great deal, but that doesn’t mean I should be utterly abandoning my impulse control. I’ve been a regular Nicki Henrickson. I think the threat of having to own up to it will cool my heels.
So here it is: I vow to publicly admit what I buy. Shame has always been a wonderful motivator for me.
But my vow is only voluntarily retroactive, so I’m not promising under-oath disclosure about what I bought this past week. And it was a doozy. So there.
