Heat, Redecorating, and the Female Rationalization of Cosmetic Purchases

It's hot.

This is what we're all like on the inside. When will it end? asks Niles. Just look at his face. He's so sick of this heat -- his new home has been on the cool tile of the bathroom floor. I convince myself it is because of the heat this indoor cat has never experienced, and not because of the cockroach action that goes on by the front door.

Luckily the exterminator comes next week; we missed his last monthly visit. Isn't that gross, that there are so many bugs and rats and roaches here that the exterminator needs to come on a monthly basis?


But he doesn't look too interested in finding bugs. And he SHOULDN'T, because I spent all morning cleaning.

Then I decided it was time to say goodbye to the worn, red-striped, kind-of-ugly shower curtain I've had since freshman year of college. Maybe it's all the "Room Makeover" articles I've been reading in Real Simple, but I decided that I needed a change. A small change, but one that would make me happy. The heavy, dark colors of the curtain we had (can't find a picture, but you can go back to our apartment video to see the drabness) made our bathroom look even more cramped and enclosed than it already is, if that's even possible.

And honestly, I was just sick of it. I wanted a light, airy bathroom, not a dark, wintery bathroom.

Am I putting to much blame on a simple shower curtain?

Maybe.



But it gave me an excuse to go shopping. So I went, happily. And came home with this!


Birds! And nests! And butterflies! Tell me you wouldn't smile every morning before jumping into a shower and being surrounded by happy birds on flowering branches. Just tell me!

Is there something wrong with my life that I get so excited about a shower curtain pattern? That it cheers me up? That I actually internally debated between this and the curtain with SAT words on it for about 20 minutes at the store? Sigh.

If it's so wrong, I don't wanna be right.

Since Tyler was grading GRE exams all day, and I didn't want to come home yet, I traversed Fifth Avenue to Sephora, the wonderland of all things cosmetic. I tried on some fabulous perfume that smelled just like Aquage hair product (in a good way). I browsed overly expensive designer mascara and cleanser kits created by Swiss doctors designed to vacuum the gunk out of your pores and shrink them to nothingness.

But in the end I just bought a replacement for my trusty eyebrow pencil, since the one I have is a nubbin.

Oh, and then I got sucked into the little marketing scheme they have, which is pure genius: the clear bins of little travel-sized products specially placed at a certain height for you to look at while you wait in line. Mini perfume rollers, oil blotters, baby mascara wands, Tweezerman tweezers, Rosebud salve, lipstick, nail polish, MAC eyeshadow, etc.

"Don't do it, don't do it," I told myself as I waited in line. "Don't be a gullible consumer! You know the tricks they're up to! They want you to buy more stuff while you wait in line. Don't do it!"

And I almost made it through the line successfully, until I saw THIS! On sale for a limited time! Only $10!


Sale? Ten dollars? What a steal!

Wait a second...

Hey! You marketers! You floor designers! You advertisers! Just whaddaya think you're doing? You can't fool me, I know that studies show consumers are automatically attracted to the word "sale" even if the sale isn't really all that great, I know people's brains are wired to think that $9.99 is a better deal than $10 because the last digit is lower, I'm an educated, an edu...

Smashbox O-Glow makeup is something that has been on my "I Want This" list for awhile ever since I read a review in a magazine. It's a cheek color that goes on clear but turns the shade of pink you naturally blush -- I think it's probably based off your skin temperature or something. But it's like magic! And so subtle!

And so my brain saw the words "Smashbox" "O" and told me Sarah, this might not be the O-Glow cheek color, but it's lip gloss. That's almost the same thing.

"But I don't wear lip gloss," I told my brain.

You will once you buy this and realize how amazing it is! It's magic lip gloss! It changes color based on your skin tone!

"It's...it's ten dollars, Brain. You know as well as I do that ten dollars is a lot to pay for freakin' lip gloss."

Psh. You only have fifteen more seconds to decide before you reach the cashier! Get it! What's ten dollars to you? You deserve it. You've worked every day this week. This is your only day off. You cleaned all morning. Just buy it!

"Well, I guess you bring up some pretty good points. How do you always rationalize these purchases, Brain? They always seem like such a good idea."




I'm wearing it now, and boy, so beautiful. So subtly rosy.