Are Expensive Face Creams Worth It?
I know I need to use eye cream regularly. Not like I “need” toilet paper, but like I “need” spanx for self-worth. I can’t escape the fact that I’ve become one of those women of a certain age who could really benefit from a nightly heaping double scoop of eye cream, hold the sprinkles.
In the salad days, I shopped at Sak’s Fifth Ave. for make-up and skin care products. Then I went through a phase where I decided the beauty industry was perpetrating an evil conspiracy and fear mongering me into buying their expensive lady products. I knew they were preying on my youth-craving insecurities with overblown flakey skin propaganda. During that time I could be seen picking up face lotions and eyeliner at Walgreens. No need to buy a $140 one ounce miniature bottle of eye cream from an opulent department store when I could moisturize my face with something I pick up at Quik Trip while also getting gasoline. Win-Win for everyone. We all know the best stuff is always in the display next to the icee machine. I don’t need spendy creams to make me look good, or more importantly, feel good about myself. Only, sort of. But then the convenience store impulse products stopped working very well. I had to concede that maybe it was time to invest in some real beauty products that weren’t located next to juicy fruit gum. I had to embrace the reality that my face wasn’t going to get up and “moisturize itself”, spontaneously “look young” or “stop aging”. Tsk.
I begrudgingly wound up at Nordstrom’s, determined to simply buy a decent moisturizer. This is my face we’re talking about, after all. Gay Philip, bored at the MAC counter, spotted me browsing the designer shoe floor. Gay Philip looked like Adam Lambert without the sparkle. He intercepted me before I got to the glass-lined fragrance counter. I didn’t stand a chance. Recall how well I fared when Gay Chris beguiled me in the True Religion store at the mall. In addition to talking me into purchasing a $92 precious eye elixir from the fabled Ladakh Mountains, Gay Philip also convinced me I “needed” a skin base Visage primer. “Worth every penny!” Quite similar to painting a layer of kilz primer on walls before slapping on a coat of latex. It’ll cover all your cracks! Let’s retexture that kisser! There will be smooth where now there is coarse. Someone hand me a 5 in 1 tool, stat! We need more spackle!
I am no longer revered as a woman, even by gay men. Gay Philip sees me as a blemished wall that needs several layers of paint, maybe lacquer. I am a project. A stuccoed wall if Gay Philip was feeling mean that day.
I need to start saving up for a face-lift. This expensive face cream is about to kill me.