Do you blush?

My first introduction to cosmetic counters came at a young age. A time when Mom dressed me up to go shopping in a department store. In Denver, where I grew up, we had the May Company, Daniels and Fishers, Neusteters, and I Magnin. We also had a store called Montaldos which was by far the most elegant. At the entrance of each store on the main floor was a vast area called “The Cosmetics Department.”I think the varieties of fragrances and brands was more limited then. Of course there was Chanel and Nina Ricci and in the very elegant areas – Joy.

My mother was a great fan of testing and even a greater fan of samples. As we walked the aisles counter shopping, Mom would stop at each area where an atomizer sat invitingly. One only needed to squeeze the bulb protruding from the bottle to unleash a mist of fragrant moist particles of au du parfum. One squeeze would land on the right wrist. (one applies perfumes to the pulse points on the body – which means there are six areas for testing – two wrists, two inside elbows, and two behind the ear areas. And if one still needed more “testing ground” there was always the soft spot at the base of the neck under the chin.) My Mom would have a fragrant batch of moist molecules in all available spots – rendering her a living breathing cloud of ambergris-laden potency. (I later found out that most perfumes have a base of ambergris – which is otherwise known as whale puke.)

When I discovered the meaning of ambergris, I spent long hours musing about its collection. Did sailors find batches of it floating on the ocean? How was it gathered? Did you toss out a net to get the tossed out whale cookies? My young mind stretched to imagine.

At many of the counters there were small vials of perfume attached to a cardboard logo that were given away. Mom hoarded these with glee and as soon as we would get home, would go through all of her drawers placing one amidst her lingerie and nightgowns and linen handkerchiefs. Once the cork was removed, the liquid in the small vials would slowly evaporate, releasing their scent in the dark recesses of dresser drawers.

I don’t remember much else from these journeys. Did Mom buy powder and eye shadow and lipstick and mascara? Those items must not have been high on the beauty scale. I simply don’t remember – nor do I remember her ever putting on makeup in front of me. Ever!

As I reached my teens, those items of beauty became tantamount to survival necessities. One simply couldn’t go to school without blue eye shadow and lavender mascara. Lips which were originally only allowed a tinting compound called Tangee (which started out as orange goo but magically turned young lips pouty pink) began puckering around other more vivid shades.

As a young woman I attended cosmetic parties. The party hostess would serve tropical punch and sugar cookies. We would chat and play a few games and then the expert would “make over” one or two lucky candidates. Always feeling obligated to purchase something we were urged to buy the whole kit and caboodle. Having many kits gather in the closet over the years I know the caboodle is what once extracts from ones purse to pay for the kit. The more elaborate the kit the more valuable the caboodle.

When I would return home from the parties I would diligently line up all of the gorgeous bottles and tubes and brushes and methodically and vigorously follow all of the directions we had been taught. Most of the time this ritual (which could take up to an hour or more) would last a week or two. Then, one day, I’d be in a hurry and I’d cut corners reducing the ritual to perhaps a dab of shadow, a touch of blush and a quick blot of lip gloss. The ritual over the skin smoothing lotions and emollients would last a bit longer but eventually to the wayside they would go as well. The next party – different brands – new promises and the cycle would repeat.

About once every three years the bathroom counter and cupboards would need a facelift more than I and all would be tossed or donated…much of which had long since separated or changed in its chemical nature.

Sometimes I wondered just what was I thinking?

As I grew older I began to enjoy watching the people at the cosmetic counters – especially at Bergdorf Goodman in New York City. I discovered that late afternoon was a favorite time to get a makeover before that night’s date. At that time, most cosmetic sales people are commissioned by the brand, and they will go all out to make a sale. And, if that means a complete professional hydrating-cleaning-pore- lightening event prior to a total make up do – so be it. It’s all part of the game.

I was once walking through Saks Fifth Avenue in New York and a lady actually jumped out in the aisle stating that she had to “do my face.” The counter she guarded was laden with imported Swiss fineries (Sisley brand). I sat down and she began the tutorial with a cleansing routine followed by hydrating lotions and waters followed by moisturizing, foundation, and finally makeup. The range of accouterments included eye cream (which must be dabbed on with one’s ring finger lest one break the tenderest skin around the eyes), facial cream applied in varying directions meant to defy the sagging nature of gravity, followed by neck and upper bust cream (to remove just the of tiniest wrinkles and age checkered skin) followed by lip solutions (meant to fluff out ones lip skin) followed by the most elegant makeup I had ever encountered. If I were to have purchased all that she deemed necessary to keep me presentable I would have parted with a caboodle of over $600. And that for a month’s supply only.

I think all of these cosmetic counters and their accompanying merchandise are for those whose self esteem is a bit needy. Perhaps I’ve grown skeptical or maybe I’m just a realist. Or maybe, since I’ve always had fairly decent skin and skin tone, I am now aloof to all of the promises. I just don’t see that much difference between good old soap and water and other more expensive versions.

I have found my favorites. I gave up on makeup of any kind years ago even though I do admit it brings out the good features of my face. (And I actually wore a bit of makeup the entire year I was president of my Rotary club) But who can bother. The daily routine is way beyond my patience these days. I love the combined fragrance of ginger and grapefruit and have found a great lotion with that exact combination and I even think the company doesn’t kill any animals while testing its products. I’ve found a cream for my hands which was originally used for horses’ hooves to keep them soft.

Over the years I’ve developed abhorrence to perfumes of all types. They either make me sneeze or give me headaches. So I’ve tossed the fragrant body wrappings (which is a softer way of saying perfumes) and I’ve abolished musk or patchouli or other new age scents. Just put me in the corner with my grapefruit and ginger and I’ll be a happy woman.

Sometimes you get what you pay for. Really expensive nail enamel does last a long time. It dries quickly and remains shiny. Chanel was one of my favorite brands but no store within 300 miles of my house carries it so I gave it up. I could by it on the internet or the nice cosmetic lady at Bergdorf’s would be happy to ship it to me. It just seems one more thing I really don’t need or want. Besides – I have found a great place to have manicures these days and my new favorite color is not really a color at all – and it’s called “High Maintenance” – which amuses me a lot.

One thing I will say - the science of scent (organoleptics) does have merit. My mom died a few years ago and sometimes I open her sewing basket or her button jar and I am right there with her and her “wrappings” – the familiar scent warming my heart again even in her absence.