War Paint

Will someone invent an all-in-one makeup palette for women who hate to wear makeup, please?

Saturday morning, I went to Ulta Beauty. Sunday afternoon, I pored over the blush I bought there looking for diamond chips. I figured that was why 0.03 - zero point zero three, less than 1/10th - of an ounce of something could not be just bismuth oxychloride (pearl white powder) and mica for the price I paid.

Okay. There were a couple more fancy oxides in there: iron oxide, titanium dioxide, something called Carmine that I’ll have to Google later (If I do it now I’ll never finish this blog). But $25 of so miniscule a quantity of something MUST have precious jewels in the mix, right?

If not diamonds, then, at the very least, rubies?

Nope. Just oxides, mica, and that Carmine, which I should SOOO not have given in and just Googled. Sometimes it’s best to be in the dark about where the colors in your makeup come from.

Note to self.

I suppose if my Bare Minerals Loose Powder Blush was actually made of precious gems, instead of ground up beetles (Carmine), I wouldn’t get much use out of it. It would be too valuable to just carelessly brush across my cheekbones every morning. More likely, I’d put it on a shelf and glance at it from time to time.

Oh wait…That is what’s going to happen. That’s the whole reason for my recent multi-beauty-store (I have shopped Sephora waaaay more than I have ever wanted to the last few weeks) quest for the perfect, all-in-one, makeup palette. The last blush - and eyeshadow, and concealer, and foundation, and highlighter, mascara, eyeliner, etc., you get the idea - did sit on a shelf virtually untouched for nearly 2 years.

Then I had something fancy - could have been an actual, real live cocktail party, more likely just a trip to Bergen County, New Jersey, where you do not dare step foot without a flawless face and eyebrows on fleek - and of course, after 2 years, my disused eyeshadow, long past it’s expiration date, gave me pink eye.

Time for some new makeup.

Ugh.

You would never know that I had Rouge Status at Sephora once upon a time. Clearly the sales clerk following me around as I wandered like a lost puppy up and down the cramped aisles of my nearest store, inside a Kohl’s, did not. Pretty sure she thought I was a shoplifter from her omnipresent, shadowy presence every time I glanced up from scrutinizing the displays for an all-in-one, shadow, blush, foundation, highlighter cosmetics kit in colors that compliment a fishbelly white skin complexion.

Okay, not full, fishbelly white. Irish-German-British-Sunscreen-Worshipping-After-I-Turned-Myself-Into-a-Lobster-One-Summer White.

Same difference.

By the time I finally brought the eye and face palette in neutrals, a sample size setting powder, and tiny tube of mascara that is still more than I’ll ever need to the checkout counter, there was sweat pooling in my bra and thighs were screaming from doing more squats searching the store’s lower displays than they did in a while year of yoga and Pilates classes.

The thighs still haven’t forgiven me. Also, good thing I was in Kohls. I could hop right over to the lingerie section and torture myself further searching for a decent bra.

A few days later, my eyes started itching and I felt like a lead weight had settled on my eyelids, just above the lash line.

I forgot. I’m actually allergic to most of the ingredients in skincare and cosmetics. I have a whole sheaf of papers from my dermatologist describing which ingredients I need to avoid and which brands I shouldn’t use.

It was just as well. I missed the eyeshadow being a coppery color. Beautiful, shimmery, made my eyes look like orange lobsters. Why can’t anyone, ever, design a “Busy Moms Who Hate Makeup” palette with the classics: rose blush, a pale lid highlight, pressed powder, a buildable color eyeshadow in a classic brown, blue, charcoal, or plumb? Really, that’s all we need. That’s all we have time for in reality.

I was too embarrassed to take the palette back to Sephora, hence the reason I was at Ulta on Saturday, picking up the sole brand of eyeshadow - Clinique - my crazy sensitive skin will accept. To be safe, I grabbed the blush as well.

Incidentally, no diamonds, rubies, or other even semi-precious gems in the 0.01 ounces of eyeshadow. Oh well. At least I won’t break out into hives.

When I got home I stacked all of my new makeup - thank goodness the finishing powder and mascara were brands I know I’m not allergic to - in the medicine cabinet and waved goodbye for another 2 years.

Hopefully not.

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