Consider this post an open letter to the Makeup Company Who Shall Not Be Named, you know who I'm talking about. The one who makes the well-known pink-and-green packaged mascara of infamy, labeled as Great, but one that I would argue is Not-So-Great. This Birdy's not a hater -- I've tried on several occasions to give this product a try, but it always ends in smudgy, forest creature-eyed doom. Seriously, you'll look like a heroin chic model, but all heroin, no chic. It's like the tale of a bad relationship. I gave the mascara a try in my late teens to much disapointment, went back to it later in my mid-twenties, thinking it changed its ways, and you'd think being thirty-something, I'd have learned that twice-bitten should be a lesson, but no. Burned AGAIN. I was in need of a new mascara, decided to give it another try, and yet again - Epic Disappointment. With the holiday season coming around, I need makeup that will stand the cocktail party test!
It got me a-thinkin' about makeup companies in general. They really are good at spinning a good yarn about how a product can supposedly change your life. There are miracles in a bottle, magic in a cream, perfection in a little tube -- a veritable Harry Potter world of wizardry and every makeup counter is like a mini-Hogwarts, festooned with glitter. And we believe it. We want to believe it. Makeup is like the modern day Fairy Godmother, with the power to change ducklings into swans. It speaks a lot about our desires towards change and transformation, much the same with fashion. I could get all head-shrinky over it, but I'm just as guilty for wanting the same things from bottled products and clothing on hangers. But in the meantime, I think I need to clean up my smudgy eyes and run out to get some new mascara, because dammit, this Birdy will not be burned again!
Jaunty Fine Print: illustration by Denise Sakaki