The Dark Side of Cosmetics

I don't think I know a woman who has set foot into a Sephora who doesn't love it, or a man who has spent more than 30 minutes in a Sephora who doesn't hate it. Sephora has not yet made it's way to Utah County, so I was first introduced to this store in California, and I was instantly in love with the place. It's a store that I can only permit myself to enter when I have plenty of time on my hands. Those rows and rows of little bottles filled with every brand, texture, and hue of cosmetic imaginable just lures me in and I really don't even try to resist. I don't want to resist, I want to waste an hour or more in there figuring out which colors are "right" for me and contemplating how a certain product may just be that one thing I've been seeking that will transform me into a supermodel over night.

So bearing in mind my weakness for this store I needed to stop by there the other night for something. I was supposed to be meeting someone and was working with some time restraints. I assured myself that I know exactly where this item is located in the store, so I would just walk in, pick it out, and be safely back out and on my way in under 10 minutes. Perfect. I walked in, and immediately realized that they had moved everything. I swear I think they moved stuff on purpose just to make people like me hunt through the store to find what they need. I was determined to not fall victim to that game, so I asked the sales lady standing there where they had moved my needed item. She walked with me over to the display. I was very focused, and I didn't really bother to look at the sales person. She of course stayed there to point out some new items, and give me a rundown on all the latest offered by that brand. I was torn between my old product and the newer and allegedly improved version of the same product. To help me out the sales woman offered "I use this one," pointing to the one in my left hand. That's when I bothered to look up at her for the first time and I was so startled I almost dropped everything right there. My first impulse, and what I barely caught myself from saying outloud was "that's not the look I'm going for at all." She quite literally reminded me of a clown. I just don't know how else to describe it. I'm sure I looked surprised, I don't think there's any chance I managed to conceal that. I just hope that she didn't realize it was because I felt like her makeup was screaming at me "Ignore her, look at ME!" I was looking, I couldn't stop looking. I just couldn't get over it, I feel like I'm still not over it. I can't even remember what she said. I think that's probably what comes from spending all day in a cosmetics store. After a while she probably just got carried away, and now...now she looks like a clown. Next time I want to go in there and waste time, maybe I'll remember the clown lady and think twice about it.