Perfection, my ass

I am such a sucker.

I'm also a bit of a girly girl. I love pink, fluffy slippers, bath and body products, and sparkles. I can't ever buy enough scented lotion, and I spend too long getting ready on date nights. However, I've always considered myself to have a pretty good grasp on reality when it comes to what I really NEED to have. I'll shop sales and only buy when I'm running out of something, except for two very glaring exceptions. Mascara and lip-gloss. Very few people in the world have ever seen me without mascara and lip-gloss, and it is essentially my one true goal in life to prevent that number from growing. Therefore, I keep secret stashes of these products in every conceivable hiding place: pockets, glove compartments, drawers, the toolbox. I do have my favorite, go-to brands and shades to which I will always stay true. But on occasion, some glossy new ad or gimmick will tempt me, and I fall into Freak Fad Frenzy.

This is what happened to me when I discovered the emergence of the new vibrating mascaras. I first spotted the Lancome vibrating mascara (sexily dubbed Oscillation) in a magazine this summer. I got giddy. I had to have one. But I didn't want to pay 34 bucks for it, so I waited until there was a cheaper version sold at CVS. Happily, a few weeks later I discovered Pulse Perfection™ by Define-A-Lash® Vibrating Mascara. See all of those trademarks? It's patented technology people! It must be good! The packaging promised that this product would give me the 7 elements of amazing lashes. Now my lashes are naturally light and not super thick, so that sounded good to me. I waited until I had used up my other mascara to try it, and this was the week. Bring on the perfection!

It was only when I was standing before the mirror yesterday, wand in hand, that I realized I was now about to angle a piece of hard plastic covered in tiny, vibrating spikes, into to my eye. Maybe I hadn't thought this through. But I wasn't about to cave that easily. I followed the detailed instructions on the packaging and waited to see my glorious lashes emerge...

"Uh, why do I look like a large, furry spider is napping on my eyelid?" Because this crap doesn't work. It's ridiculous. I looked like I had a solid clumps of lashes, like one of those old napping baby dolls whose lids flap up into their heads when you pick them up. It took me almost five minutes of slow separating with my lash comb, followed by wiping all of the excess on a tissue, and more combing. There was so much mascara on that wand that even Tammy Faye would have cringed. Sadly, I had to go to work, so I had to do it again on the other eye or risk not matching and looking like an even bigger wacko. It usually takes me a total of ten minutes to do all of my makeup, but it took me longer than that just to put on this mascara. At the end of the day, my eyes started to itch. I looked in the mirror and realized it was because the mascara was flaking off and nesting inside my lower eyelids, where it created the appearance of smudgy, dark liner and also an increasing amount of discomfort. I'll admit that the liner effect, while entirely accidental, looked kind of sultry, but I'm not into all that pain in the name of fashion bullshite. I couldn't wait to get home and either wash my face or tear my eyes out.

The good news is CVS has a great beauty returns policy, so this shit is going back to the store. When someone invents injectable lipgloss, remind me of this experience.