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No "Maybe" About It — It's Maybelline, and Cover Girl, and L.A. Colors, and ...

By Gloria Diaz

Check out Gloria's Blog — Edge of Gloria!

Fort Wayne Reader

2015-03-19

I’ve told you about my salt addiction, which is going to be an eternal battle, I think. There’s something else I’m addicted to, and I can’t figure out why. It’s makeup. New makeup.

Makeup fresh in the package. There’s something beautiful about the individual compartments of eye shadow, the blush that is waiting for the first stroke of a brush, nice sharp eyeliner, those clean looking bottles of foundation.

I don’t know why it’s such a fascination. But when I go into a store that sells makeup, it’s probably the first aisle I check out. If I have to kill time for whatever reason, I head over to the makeup section.

I’ll never forget the time I bought lipstick, and found a perfect color for me. It was just a little bit darker than my lips, and since I tend toward the natural look, I was delighted when I put it on and loved it. I was even more excited when this lipstick (L.A. Colors Fresh) smelled like chocolate. CHOCOLATE! I still have it, but they no longer sell the color. I’ll have to get a replacement soon, but whenever something gets discontinued (food items, cars, perfume, MAKEUP) I get all depressed. That’s why I tend to fall into a rut and not try items labeled “for a limited time only.” It means that I’ll freak out if I get hooked on that item, and I’m not wealthy enough to call the company and buy out their remaining stock.

It doesn’t really matter where I am. Dollar Tree, Walgreens, Meijer, Dollar General, or the local beauty Mecca, Ulta. I’ll check out the makeup. I’m not really a makeup snob. I do try to avoid cheap eyeliner—it either is too gooey, resulting in smears, or too hard, making application painful. Ulta recently opened a store within walking distance of my house, and it’s both bliss and completely dangerous. They do have really good deals, and I’ll skulk around the clearance racks hoping for a deal. I found a makeup bag that included makeup and brushes for the unbelievable price of $9.99. It was originally $88, so after my jaw hit the floor, I picked up a bag. The brushes alone were worth the bargain price. I also got to try out eye shadow primer, and also ended up with a tube of new mascara, in addition to the three different eye shadow sets, lip gloss, nail polish, and eyeliner. There was blush thrown in, even though it was broken. I didn’t care. I was practically dancing over getting something that was $88 for $10.

The higher-end makeup sort of scares me. I wonder why it’s so high priced, and if it’s worth it. I carefully linger around the Urban Decay and Smashbox and Benefit and Too Faced counters and marvel over the prices. Just the price for one item alone, say $32 for a tiny palette of eye shadow, makes me nervous. Do you know how much makeup I could buy for $32? And the idea of spending that amount all at once for makeup scares me. I usually buy a couple items at a time, maybe more if it’s clearance.

Or maybe I have such low self-esteem that I don’t think I’m worthy of good makeup. I know I’ve been stung by certain eye shadows and liners. I went to a Halloween party loaded up with shadows and liners and my eyes were watering on the way over. When I got to the hostess’s house, I asked her if she had any baby oil. I had to get this stuff off my eyelids, because my eyes were turning red. It wasn’t just me—the hostess said other guests were having problems too. When I got home, I got rid of the makeup, and washed the brushes and foam sponges too.

Maybe the eye shadow palettes are the grown-up equivalent of watercolors. I used to love fresh paint sets as a child, and what is makeup but paint for the canvas that is your face? Whatever it is, the brand-new plastic cases that lovingly show off those tiny squares of color, the smell of new Cover Girl makeup (refreshing) or the lipstick that smells like chocolate makes me happy. The cases are so clean—there’s no stray dust from the last time (or several dozen times) you delicately pushed the brush or foam applicator into that gorgeous shade of purple and carefully applied it on your lid. The see-through plastic cases aren’t scratched up or cracked. The bottle of foundation is full, and you don’t have to scrape out the liquid with a cotton swab.

When my mother died, she easily left two dozen lipsticks, some loose in her bag, some rubber-banded together. It seemed like she never left the house without lipstick, whereas I have to remind myself I have at least six shades to choose from, so why do I always seem to forget it or do without? I guess there are worse addictions to have, but I think the average woman who wears makeup is on the quest to find the perfect shade of red, the right eyeliner, the evening look that doesn’t make her look like a hooker. I think the powers that be know this, so they are on a constant quest to keep us buying, and if they discontinued a shade, we lose our shit until we find a suitable replacement. In a world where $50 lipstick exists, I don’t want to get hooked. I have champagne tastes on a tap water budget.

I still have a bit of that L.A. Colors Fresh left. I guess I should start saving up for that replacement.