There are few places on Earth that I enjoy more than Sephora.
As an avid beauty fanatic, I spend way more time (and money) at the cosmetic chain than I ever should. When I achieved VIB Rouge status, I was both excited and very, very ashamed. I may not be able to eat anything other than ice soup until I get paid this Friday, but at least my face looks flawless. What can I say? I have a problem, and I can't stop.
All of the ladies (and lads) out there who find themselves always making trips to Sephora, against their better judgement because it's just so damn addicting, this one is for you.
1. Amazement.
Walking in. The scent of each and every overpriced perfume creeping into your nostrils. Seeing the incredible colors of countless isles of sweet, beautiful makeup. Just sitting there, waiting - waiting for you to gaze upon it. To swatch it. To snatch it up, and into your hands. There is an astounding amount of products just dying to go home with you, and it is mesmerizing.
2. Distraction.
At first, the sheer amount of options was strikingly beautiful. But after a few quick seconds of bliss, it starts to get overwhelming. Suddenly, your mental list of what you were going to buy has vanished. And any attention span that you may have had prior walking past those big glass doors? Gone.
What did I come in here for again? I don't know. Oh, right, I think it was - wait is that a new highlighting palette?
3. Greediness.
After my mind has settled a bit, I begin to look at specific products. Beautiful products. The best products. Products like no other.
I start to fantasize over the feminine looks I could create with the Sweet Peach palette, the luxurious glow I could rock with Champagne Pop. Suddenly, I have 10 products in my little black mesh bag totaling over $500 and then - that's when I realize.
4. BROKENESS.
This. Is. Going. To. Cost. My. Entire. Paycheck.
While that may be a bit of an exaggeration... it's not, really. Even the cheapest, travel-size items start around $20 - lippies, single shadows, and glosses go for around the same, or a bit more. When we talk about foundation, we start talking more in the $40-$60 range. Palettes? You could be looking at $65 or more. Don't get me started on the perfumes.
5. Indecisiveness.
Now that I've realized I'm broke, I know I can only get a couple of things. That's a real downer, when I really want all of the things. I have no idea what to buy now. Do I need foundation more than I need a new highlight? Do I need a primer more than I need eyelashes?
Do I need to just turn around and walk out of this god forsaken store before I'm sleeping on the streets?
6. Deliberation.
This foundation is $60, this one is $40. I really want the $60 one, but if I buy the $40 one, I'll have enough money left for a new lipstick. But I also want lashes. Can I forego the foundation? Should I get both foundations, just to be safe? Do I want to eat this week?
7. Confidence.
After circling the entire store for the thirty-fifth time, I grit my teeth and I approach the checkout line. I'm positive that these are the products I should be buying. These are what I need. I, a problem-solving genius, have made all the right decisions.
8. Shockgret.
Shockgret (shoK-gret): The state of pure shock and instant regret.
When that total pops up on the pin-pad... well, there's just really no further explanation needed.
9. Reassurance.
My gas tank is on "E". I can't afford lunch for the next week. It's a good thing I have Wi-Fi at work, because my cell phone bill is overdue and this bitch is broke. However, I am going to look DAMN good while I walk to work and starve simultaneously. Maybe the blinding light from my cheekbones will give me cell service..? Who cares. I am going to look tremendous.
10. Withdrawal.
It doesn't matter how much I just spent, and how dire my financial situation is. I am a slave to the slay. I will always go back.
