So at this point I think I can admit that the lady at the makeup counter at Bloomingdale’s totally hosed me. Ladies, you know what I’m talking about. You walk up a little self-conscious because you did your own makeup and there’s all those lights shining on your face and you’re not really sure what you want to buy anyway but you were lured in by the possibility of becoming beautiful. Then the lady with all the makeup comes up and takes a look at your skin and even though you say, “I’m looking for a mascara” she says, “Oh honey, you need to moisturize immediately.” You know you’re done for when she asks what you regularly use, and you say Neutrogena, and she starts laughing. Laughing!
Of course you’re going to buy some ridiculously overpriced pink foam that supposedly puts oxygen into your skin (and really, when she rubs it on your hand you see the difference, you really do) but later, you admit to yourself at home that night, or even the next day, that the luscious-smelling pink gel that magically turns to an oxygenating foam probably only amounts to some kind of chemical reaction similar to the vinegar and baking soda volcano that you would recognize if you had paid more attention in Mr. Liudahl’s class.
48 Stars because I can keep living the lie, since it’s such a pretty color of pink and the gel-into-foam thing will still be magical every time I do it.