Yesterday, I ventured into the dark, grimy bowels of Sephora to whip my sad and scrappy makeup bag into something socially acceptable.
If you have a penis, you should know that Sephora is an upscale makeup store. You’re welcome.
I don’t like Sephora. I try to avoid going there as much as possible. While the makeup itself is enough to make me orgasm on entry, I simply can’t stand the black suit saleswomen getting up in my grill about whether I’m using a good primer before I put on my foundation. I don’t like their insinuation that I should use the makeup they like to use, and I don’t like the pressure of being talked to.
Also, all of them sort of look like whore clowns.
Exhibit A: Sample Whore Clown. Photo by "br1dotcom". Click to check out their Flickr Photostream, which also features some ridiculously adorable pictures of a French Bulldog.
I’ve been trying to avoid shopping in Sephora for a long time now and as a result have bounced around to several different department store makeup brands trying to find things that stop small children from screaming bloody horror when they see my face and that stay on all day long.
My face has needs. Real needs.
I would avoid the store entirely and shop online, but I can only do that to refill something I already know I like. I can’t ever get a new color or a new brand because without the luxury of sampling, there’s no way to know if the super expensive makeup I’m about to buy is actually going to bring me any sort of shallow, material happiness.
Seeing as how I used to work at Victoria’s Secret – the ultimate in black suit pressure saleswomen – you’d think I’d be able to the Sephora challenge. But I can’t. I’m just awful at it. I spend most of my time discreetly moving from one color to another without looking like I’m actually interested in what I’m looking at. A face that shows interest is a face that shows weakness. So I casually swipe a bit of a sample onto my finger, mosey over to the mirror, and try to look casual about painting my face. It’s quick and odd – like when I try to check my armpits for a suspicious odor. I pretend I’m doing something else altogether, but the trained eye is incredibly aware.
My casual ruse was almost foiled by my inability to locate the disposal bin for the samples. I had all the eye shadow sticks, square wipes, and gloss applicators I could possibly hope for but not one single trash can in sight. Everything blends in there. It’s all black, white, and bright lights. People shouldn’t even be allowed to drive for at least 15 minutes after they leave.
So, unable to find a garbage can for all the pieces of used makeup wipes in my hands and with each of my fingers entirely coated in a different makeup color from my ‘casual swiping’ as I moseyed by the products, I resolved to continue to feign disinterest and certainty and promptly shoved all the wipes into my purse. Heaven forbid I ask where the garbage can is and get asked what kind of airbrush foundation I’m using.
In case you’re interested, the answer is none – airbrushed makeup is for whore clowns.
I eventually emerged from the innards of the elitist makeup shop with my mental sanity (almost entirely) in tact. I also somehow acquired twice as many products and I initially entered for. Which is a bit of a quandary, seeing as how not a single person approached me during my browse.
I would have felt badly about my terrible display of self-control if I hadn’t gotten a free sample of mascara that blew my mind and a free bottle of super yummy-smelling body wash because it’s my birthday month. Those little bits of pleasure made the price tag of my purchases not even noticeable until I got home, at which time I wallowed in self-despair. I tried to make myself feel better by painting my face with my new makeup, but it mixed my tears to produce a sort of awkward-girl-upset-that-she’s-not-prom-queen look.
I’m now one day past my initial buyer’s regret and the feeling is not subsiding. I should have known better. I should have stayed away. But hey – lesson learned. …Again. Shop Sephora online or don’t shop it at all. It looks like I’ll be replacing my makeup with the same exact colors and brands for several years to come.
I’ll need some time to muster up the strength again. ♣
Today’s RAK: Mailing a thoughtful gift to someone I’ve only just met for an hour.
The Jackie Blog 
Whore clowns: hysterical! Sephora is the devil.
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Hear hear!
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The KEY to surviving Sephora is bring your gay-male-best-friend. Use him to distract all the black-suited-power-salespeople! He’ll attract their attention because he’s 1) a male and therefore someone to flirt with harmlessly, 2) he might (MIGHT) not know about the need for a good primer, and 3) he might need help figuring out what his “girlfriend” really wants (wink!). It’s worked for my lady friends frequently… I’m often a ruse.
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This is a great suggestion. I suppose I need to acquire a gay best friend. 😛
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“Also, all of them sort of look like whore clowns.” Funny! I shop online with them too, but have to wander in if I need something in a rush. They stalk you and pick out items they like vs. what might be best for you. Hate it.
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Well said, Barbara!
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Awesome. I’m a whore clown. I just have a different pimp! I’m from The South though so our techniques are a little different. (Our “suggested selling” techniques I mean. Getting in someone’s face ABOUT their face is considered tacky.) Hmmm… Maybe our application techniques too. We have to brave the heat and humidity and anything that sparkles sells. For the record though, I’ve refused to bring an airbrush into the store so Right On, Sis! 😉
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Haha well certainly no offense to you or your job. I’d love to see how classic Southern hospitality affects the typical high-pressure shopping situation. 🙂
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I’ve never been to Sephora, but if it’s like the makeup section of every upscale department store I’ve ever been to, you’re right. The thing is to act natural and never, NEVER make eye-contact. Once you do, they know they’ve got you.
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it’s so hard, Peg. Like Medusa. I can feel them burning into my soul.
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Ulta. more choices, lower prices, less pressure and equal amounts of whore clowns.
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Thanks for the tip! 🙂
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i totally agree with the observationalist: if you have to go into the store, take someone with you! as long as they can be Strong and do Not need makeup of their own. my BGF got so carried away, he had us both in makeover chairs before i even got past the Benefit display. sadly, we were Both whore clowns that day…
but, as someone who is a total makeup junkie [Not self-proclaimed whore clown], i say avoid the stores if you can. shop online. sephora online lets you return stuff!! just check the return “rules” to make sure your items qualify. and yes, ULTA is great too. and try beauty.com. and…. [am i getting carried away? i tend to do that]
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Ohh I didn’t realize I could just return stuff actually. I might give that a try. Perhaps a bit of hassle, but better than dealing with the blacksuits. Thanks for the tip!
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Ulta gets my vote, too! And I have to confess that I am a big fan of primer, but after trying several, my heart belongs to Smashbox!
Also, my fabulous daughter gifted me with a subscription to Birchbox, which sends a lovely little box of high-end beauty samples each month. It costs about $10 a month, and is well worth it just to avoid clown whores and high pressure sales people making me feel very insecure about my appearance!
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ooh I love that idea. Thank you – I shall certainly have to check it out!
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