I get that I play a pivotal role in our relationship – codependency and all that – but we need to talk. The following products have let me down so many times that I have to call you out.
I can never get my cuticles to behave. I go to the nail salon and the manicurist deftly pushes my cuticles back with a little wooden stick and my cuticles are all like: “Oh. Back there? Right. Got it. No problem. Everyone, everyone – let’s just go back there.” And they do.
But when I try this at home my cuticles are all like: “What are you doing? You are using one half of a chopstick set, for crying out loud. We don’t respect you. Everyone, everyone – stay put. Stay put everyone. Actually move forward. Cover the whole nail bed. She is not a professional and cannot be trusted.”
Dear cuticles: The cuticle-dissolving cream at the pharmacy scares me, so you win. I will get my nails professionally done, but I’m going to the mean lady who mocks me for flinching when she stabs me. Love Shannon.
Dear cuticle-dissolving cream makers: Please call your product something less scary. How can I be sure it won’t dissolve the rest of my fingers? Think about it. Love Shannon.
It’s time to create an eyeliner for people who have gently used eyelids. Experienced eyelids, if you will. When you’re 20, you glide eyeliner across your smooth eyelid and a smooth line is left behind. Success!
At 41, you try to glide the eyeliner across your gently used eyelid, but there is very little gliding motion. The eyeliner works more like a tiny snowplow intent on pushing your eyelid skin into a ball in the middle of your eyelid and your lashes get mushed up in there and poke out at weird angles. It looks like a tiny ball sack, actually. Nobody wants to see that.
Dear eyeliner developers: Please develop a product that fixes my tiny ball sack issue as soon as possible. Maybe eyeliner stickers? Just an idea. Also, I don’t want to pay more than $12 for this amazing new product. Thanks! Love Shannon
You know I’m putting it on my face, right? So two things:
- Make foundation human-skin-coloured. I’m not buying four bottles of foundation and mixing them up to get the exact shade for my face. I’m not fucking Monet. I’m pouring some foundation from one bottle into my hands and applying it like moisturizer.
- Make a foundation that doesn’t give me pimples. I don’t want to look moderately good for one night and then pimply and gross for four days. That’s not a good ratio of beauty to not beauty.
Dear foundation makers: Try harder. Love Shannon.
Who decided that we want our hair to smell like a beach? I would like to see that research. Did thousands of pharmacy-shopping people say things like “coconut. I only feel my hair is clean when I smell like coconuts. Mixed with Tahitian vanilla or exotic coral, specifically.” Alternately, your hair can smell like candied fruit. Totally up to you.
Dear shampoo producers: Instead of the tropics or a candy store, I would like to smell like success and effortless charm. Maybe use a musk of some sort? I don’t know. I’m not a scientist. Love Shannon.
In summary, dear pharmacy beauty aisle, I wish I could break up with you, but you know me too well to fall for that. I’ll come crawling back to sheepishly purchase some lash-lengthening or skin-brightening product. I need the high of the beauty lie, damn you!