On some subconscious level, it seems I've been waiting 40 years for the experience I had today. No, it wasn't life changing (unless it was). It didn't take longer than an hour. It certainly wasn't outrageous.
Today is the day I went to Sephora to buy lots of high-end product. Serious-ass "wrinkle outwitting" product. With little consideration for cost because it's my 40th birthday on Saturday and doesn't a girl have the right to buy herself a fancy gift in honour of that occasion? (Note: Of course I considered the cost; I'm a woman with a kid and a mortgage. I just set a reasonably high threshold!)
As a young child, reading my mother's Vogue, subliminally absorbing its sophisticated advertising, I stared longingly at the potions marketed to women 10 times my age. These ads glamorously advised that it was a woman's express responsibility - nay, privilege - to preserve her beauty into old age.
I grew up affluent. Many of my mother's friends, my own friend's mothers, were "groomed" within an inch of their lives. And by groomed I mean users of outrageously exclusive product (La Prairie etc.). Or clients of an excellent dermatologist. Or cosmetic surgeon.
Now, I'm getting on in years. In my day, that was the vanguard of "self-preservation". Of course, people in California have always been 20 years ahead of the curve, but everywhere else tucks and lifts and serums (sera?) were the tricks of the trade for the wealthy lady of a certain age.
We didn't have retinol or Botox or Restylane or back-scooping. Sure, we had La Mer - and secretly I tried that when I was 28, unable to restrain myself. But you need to be crepey-plus to benefit from that amount of moisture. Besides, once Lauder took over, I understand they devalued the formula with mineral oil. (Note to reader: That's gossip.)
Here I am now, about to step over the threshold into old-school "middle age", and I am officially entitled to the wrinkle-busters in their fancy glass bottles with droppers and pumps and ridiculous claims.
On entering the temple of unguents, I hooked up with a very good sales associate. She had a definite bias towards "natural" product, which usually I share, though today I was leaning towards the stuff with hard-core, medicinal ingredients. She'd suggest Fresh, I'd counter with Dr. Brant. She'd say organic, I'd suggest active ingredients with power to reduce signs of fine lines.
Eventually, she delicately inferred that she wasn't recommending those products to me because I don't need them. Of course I don't need them! I've been wearing potions for 25 years!
Those young 'uns. They are so naive.
(Please stay tuned for a write up on the products we could both agree on...)