Getting Dissed At The Mall
I think I got dissed this weekend by the 12 year old working at the Clinique counter at the mall.
I needed some makeup, mine having reached that dreaded barren bottle status. Even leaving it balanced on its top all the time, it still wouldn't give up anymore makeup.
Time to go talk to those perky, young, made up, cosmetic pushers.
I took my little bottle of foundation. It amazes me how many different types of makeup they have within the same line. They all have names I'm sure were meant to be descriptive but just serve to confuse me:
Gentle Light
Almost Makeup
Pore-Minimizer
Dewy Smooth Anti-Aging Makeup
Continuous Coverage
City Base Oil-Free Powder
Work-Out Makeup All Day Wear
Stay-True Makeup Oil-Free Formula
Balanced Makeup Base
Clarifying Makeup Clear Skin Formula
City Stick
City Base Compact Foundation
Superbalanced Makeup
Soft Finish Makeup
Superfit Makeup
Clarifying Powder Makeup
Even looking at the written descriptions and the shapes of the bottles on the web page, I can't remember which one I use.
So, I showed up at the makeup counter late on a Sunday afternoon with my empty makeup bottle in my hot little hand.
It was late on a Sunday afternoon for several reasons. I'd managed to get most of the stuff I needed to do last weekend done relatively early. The GirlChild was at her BFFEIS for the afternoon. The GirlChild didn't have a soccer game that weekend and it wasn't because I'd prayed for rain and been rewarded for my efforts. The Boychild was napping. And the DearHusband was hanging Halloween decorations on the front porch.
I showed the teenybopper my empty bottle and she wondered away. She asked if there was anything else I needed.
Damn!
There actually was but I didn't bring it with me.
Damn! Damn! Damn!
I weighed the chances that I'd be able to get to the mall by myself within the next few weeks. Two soccer games next weekend. The DearHusband committed to helping clean out his mother's house. Needing to put in a few hours at the office each weekend this month. Things didn't look good.
I decided I'd try to go it alone and describe to her what I wanted, "Powder. In the square compact. That you can carry in your purse. Not that loose stuff that gets all over the counter when you open it. Powder. In the pressed form."
And she looked at me and smiled her cheerful, lipstick painted smile, "do you want the Stay-MatteSheerPressedPowder, theSoftFinishPressedPowder, theSuperpowderDoubleFaceMakeup or theGentleLightPressedPowder."
I looked at her and said "Powder." I felt like a deer, caught in the headlights of a GMC pickup truck that was full of red-necked hunters with guns and knives.
I couldn't just go with cheap. Three of them were the same price and the more expensive one only cost a dollar or two more. I know that because I asked.
So she proceeds to explain to me the virtues of each. This one is oil absorbing. This one is moisturizing. This one absorbs light. I'm not at all clear why one would need that. One helps "cover lines, shadows and evens out skin tones" and she gave me that look that said "it's the one you need, honey."
I picked a powder.
They always give free miniature samples there when you buy stuff. Usually it's nice stuff you can use but would never really buy; eye puffiness reducer, lip stuff to keep your lipstick on your lips longer, stuff to keep your eye makeup on longer. This time the toddler came out with a product called "Advanced Stop Signs" that carries the notation that it "targets lines and dark spots."
She showed it to me and dropped it into my bag. She told me "I think you'll lllooovvveee this."
I don't know how she could possibly know that. She didn't look old enough to drive a car much less be pushing makeup to middle-aged women at the mall. She had flawless skin. The kind that doesn't require any artificial assistance to glow. It was sweet, smooth, innocent. In a word, beautiful. Her skin looked like the GirlChild's skin.
I'll admit it kind of pissed me off.
It's bad enough that at 40 I still have acne.
It's bad enough I have gray hairs that stick out at funny angles.
It's bad enough that my moisturizer has the words age fighting on the front of the bottle and is called TimeWise.
It's bad enough that I know what lines and dark spots are all about and from time to time worry about them.
It's bad enough that I probably will lllooovvveee the product that "targets lines and dark spots."
But she doesn't have to rub my face in it.
M&Co.
