My name is Sarah and I have a problem
So here’s one for the ladies in the house.
Last night I was on deadline, so naturally I found myself reading Whoorl’s archives at 4 am, and when I got to her post about lip gloss, I was like, Oh! Oh oh oh! Because if there’s one thing I like doing, it’s buying stuff to smear on my mouth and then leaving it in a coat pocket or old bag after three applications.
Today I went on a search through my makeup bag and old purses to come up with all of the lip products I own, just my own little decree from Caesar Augustus, and friends, I think I might have a problem. Do you see that photo above? Do you see how I arranged them in order from functional to colorful? Do you see how I took the lids off the lipsticks and rolled them up in the tube like I was having a little photo shoot? Which I was? Who am I? A girl who owns 39 lip products, that's who!
Oh, and yes, I know they’re all basically the same color. To you.
The weird part is, I use a grand total of three of those items on a daily basis: the untinted Burt’s Bees balm, the clear mint-scented-and-flavored Sugar gloss, and the Clinique lipstick that makes it look like I am not wearing lipstick. Right. Of course.
And guess what: I DON’T EVEN LIKE LIP GLOSS. I hate it. It gets in my hair and on the rim of my drink and I have zero patience for it. The one I use daily, the minty one, I use mostly because it’s more ladylike than chewing gum.
I swear to god I’m not high maintenance, at least not about my physical appearance. (Oh, how my mother wishes I was just a little more high maintenance about my physical appearance!) Most days, I don’t wear anything but chapstick. If I leave my house, I’ll wear concealer, powder, and blush, maybe mascara and eye shadow if I’m feeling fancy. And some lipstick. You know, the one that looks like my natural lip color.
So I don’t really wear a lot of makeup, but I really like to look at it and smell it and play with it and buy it. Going into Sephora makes me really excited, but I think it’s just because it’s the grown-up version of the 64 Crayola box. I like the colors. I like the names. Sometimes I buy them just for the names. Basically, I like picking them out. And then not wearing them, unless it’s a fancy party or Halloween.
There are 39 items in that picture, so let’s round up to 40, because lord knows there’s another one or four hiding somewhere in my house. And let’s say that each one of those babies cost $10, which is an average, because some cost about $3 and a few cost closer to $24.
(Time out: WOW. TWENTY FOUR DOLLARS FOR LIP GLOSS. I remember scrounging the bottom of my backpack for nickels so I could afford a sixty-five cent bag of pretzels from the vending machine in college. And at my first two jobs. Here's where my financial advisor father has to go walk outside and count to one hundred and then cut his losses and focus solely on my brother from here on out.)
Anyway. So we are looking at roughly four hundred dollars worth of lipstick right there. Jesus H. Christ. Now, it’s not like I bought that all at once, or even all in same year, but still. $400. On something I smear on my mouth and then it comes off if I eat french fries. Which happens a lot. Let us not even think of how much I spend on french fries per year.
Things I could have spent that cumulative $400 on:
- a plane ticket or two
- a plane ticket to London in December
- half my rent
- a somewhat classy hooker
- Christmas gifts
- at least one pair of nice boots
- six or seven haircuts
- a new phone
- two nice meals out, or many normal meals out
- so many beers
Not to mention charity. That could be the cure for avian chlamydia sitting there on top of my bookshelf. But would the cure for avian chlamydia make my mouth shiny and fruit scented? I GUESS WE’LL NEVER KNOW.