One of my good friends is getting married.
I am very happy for her, but I must admit that I do not envy her the terror- and trauma-inducing task of planning (and paying for) a wedding.
The stress of engineering this incumbent ceremony has already inspired curious behaviors in my delightful, intelligent, and usually reasonable friend.
Take, for instance, lipstick mania.
|The above: all tested and rejected by a sane and accomplished individual. The optimal shade of pinkish mauve remains elusive.|
My friend has launched a quest to identify and procure the perfect color of lipstick for her wedding day. The lipsticks shown in the above photograph are merely a fraction of the items she has recently acquired. Truly, there is no Duane Reade or Clinique counter in New York she has not pillaged.
I find her quest to be both comical and slightly disturbing (I know, Gentle Reader, that the irony of my findings does not escape you).
It has also been quite a lipstick winfall for Miss Margo: my friend has bequeathed many of her tested and rejected lipsticks to me! Nice! To my eternal shame, I wear lipstick almost all the time. It is nice to get almost a hundred dollars of good-quality lipstick. Because I wear it so frequently, and because I like to try different colors (and, naturally, because I have no money), I usually buy the cheap shit. It works just fine, but the packaging is flimsy, with the result that the lipstick tops often come open in my handbag. But what can you do?
|Wet n Wild: Keeping it Classy at your Local Drug store for only $.99!!!|
(lest anyone think that I am picking on my friend, I freely cop to having my own irrational buying habits: sunscreen and fake strip eyelashes, despite the fact that I almost never wear fake eyelashes. Why? Why, God, Why? Cosmetics are a cruel joke on womenkind.)