Shopping with Pie
So as a completely biased, totally subjective, blinded-by-love mom, I can state with absolute certainty that my son is the most adorable five year old ever created and my daughter is the most beautiful thing on earth. I'm fine if you disagree with me. In fact, I expect you to.
The thing is, people tend to fawn over Pie a bit. The girl is unquestionably a fashionista and whenever possible, she will dress as if she were going to a black tie event. Today, though, after her ice skating class, we headed to the mall to make a dent in our holiday shopping (and, Peter, if you don't tell me ASAP what you want, you're getting this). We went straight from her ice skating class, so she was donned in her "dancing" outfit--a pink leotard with a flower skirt (over a turtleneck and tights). We could not walk more than 50 yards without an "Oh, isn't she adorable! [Person standing next to her] Have you ever seen someone so darling?" I worry what it's going to do to her, all these folks telling her how pretty she is. I mean, I'm her mom. That's my job. Honestly, I think it was the outfit. But the message is questionable.
But we made it through shopping. We went to the mall because I had bought Doodles a pair of gloves that was size 4-6. Those things won't fit him until he's 12. Seriously. He looks like some (very good looking) robot thing when he has them on. So Pie and I headed to the mall after skating class. I got a holiday gift for my brother- & sister-in-law. I got some lovely Hanukkah bowls for my family. I got Eloise for my kids as we're going to NYC for Thanksgiving and I thought it would get them in a New York holiday kind of mood. A couple of other holiday gifts were taken care of. And the mittens? The mittens that were the sole purpose of my trip to the mall? I remembered those halfway down the Middlesex Turnpike on my home. So, kindergarten, here comes robot-boy!
While I was at the mall with a most agreeable shopper (seriously, that girl loves to shop especially if there are samples. Any kind of samples. Food. Lotion. Lip gloss), I figured it was nigh time I bought myself a lipstick. I own a lip stick. It's very pretty. I got it for my wedding. Six and a half years ago. I figure it's time to update my collection. I've also been meaning to do this crazy thing I've been hearing about: washing my face at night. Yep, I never got into the habit. I stopped by Sephora.
I needed help. Really. So I asked for help. "I need a lipstick. Not expensive." And it was actually helpful because I ended up with a lipstick in--I think--a not hideous color for under $20, which I figured was fine. I mean, according to the New York Times sales of lipstick is an indicator of the economy (which may be a myth, but who cares?). I'm just proving the economy is in the crapper. The woman said to me, "Do you want to try another product?"
"Sure," I said. "I'm game."
She proceeds to pull out some skin stuff. "Are you wearing makeup now?"
"I'm wearing makeup never," I told her.
"Okay," she says and she goes into her spiel about this great new skin product. It's a foundation! It's a concealer! It's a powder!
"It's how much?" I ask.
"$57," she said.
"Yikes!" I replied. "A bit much for me."
"It's really economical," she assured me. "It takes the place of your foundation and your powder and your concealer--"
"Yes, but since I don't use any of those anyway, it's really not saving me any money, is it?"
And I left her speechless. From the look on her champion saleswoman face, I'm guessing that doesn't happen too often. No comeback. She had the good grace to let me go quietly.
The woman in skin care was more my speed. "I don't wash my face. Really. When I do wash it in the shower, I use plain old soap. But I'm forty. And there are wrinkles. I won't spend a lot. Do something for me." She steered me to a (relatively) cheap face wash and loaded me up with samples. "Use one pump twice a day."
"Really?" I said. "Because if I remember to use it once a day, I'll consider myself really well groomed."
So now I have a lipstick. And a face wash. And it's exciting. Which means that the transformation to suburban haus frau is complete. I went shopping. With my beauty pageant daughter. And then I blogged about it. Tomorrow's post will be about how to remove those stubborn coffee and tea stains from your white mugs (sneak preview: baking soda!).
It's a good thing.
The thing is, people tend to fawn over Pie a bit. The girl is unquestionably a fashionista and whenever possible, she will dress as if she were going to a black tie event. Today, though, after her ice skating class, we headed to the mall to make a dent in our holiday shopping (and, Peter, if you don't tell me ASAP what you want, you're getting this). We went straight from her ice skating class, so she was donned in her "dancing" outfit--a pink leotard with a flower skirt (over a turtleneck and tights). We could not walk more than 50 yards without an "Oh, isn't she adorable! [Person standing next to her] Have you ever seen someone so darling?" I worry what it's going to do to her, all these folks telling her how pretty she is. I mean, I'm her mom. That's my job. Honestly, I think it was the outfit. But the message is questionable.
But we made it through shopping. We went to the mall because I had bought Doodles a pair of gloves that was size 4-6. Those things won't fit him until he's 12. Seriously. He looks like some (very good looking) robot thing when he has them on. So Pie and I headed to the mall after skating class. I got a holiday gift for my brother- & sister-in-law. I got some lovely Hanukkah bowls for my family. I got Eloise for my kids as we're going to NYC for Thanksgiving and I thought it would get them in a New York holiday kind of mood. A couple of other holiday gifts were taken care of. And the mittens? The mittens that were the sole purpose of my trip to the mall? I remembered those halfway down the Middlesex Turnpike on my home. So, kindergarten, here comes robot-boy!
While I was at the mall with a most agreeable shopper (seriously, that girl loves to shop especially if there are samples. Any kind of samples. Food. Lotion. Lip gloss), I figured it was nigh time I bought myself a lipstick. I own a lip stick. It's very pretty. I got it for my wedding. Six and a half years ago. I figure it's time to update my collection. I've also been meaning to do this crazy thing I've been hearing about: washing my face at night. Yep, I never got into the habit. I stopped by Sephora.
I needed help. Really. So I asked for help. "I need a lipstick. Not expensive." And it was actually helpful because I ended up with a lipstick in--I think--a not hideous color for under $20, which I figured was fine. I mean, according to the New York Times sales of lipstick is an indicator of the economy (which may be a myth, but who cares?). I'm just proving the economy is in the crapper. The woman said to me, "Do you want to try another product?"
"Sure," I said. "I'm game."
She proceeds to pull out some skin stuff. "Are you wearing makeup now?"
"I'm wearing makeup never," I told her.
"Okay," she says and she goes into her spiel about this great new skin product. It's a foundation! It's a concealer! It's a powder!
"It's how much?" I ask.
"$57," she said.
"Yikes!" I replied. "A bit much for me."
"It's really economical," she assured me. "It takes the place of your foundation and your powder and your concealer--"
"Yes, but since I don't use any of those anyway, it's really not saving me any money, is it?"
And I left her speechless. From the look on her champion saleswoman face, I'm guessing that doesn't happen too often. No comeback. She had the good grace to let me go quietly.
The woman in skin care was more my speed. "I don't wash my face. Really. When I do wash it in the shower, I use plain old soap. But I'm forty. And there are wrinkles. I won't spend a lot. Do something for me." She steered me to a (relatively) cheap face wash and loaded me up with samples. "Use one pump twice a day."
"Really?" I said. "Because if I remember to use it once a day, I'll consider myself really well groomed."
So now I have a lipstick. And a face wash. And it's exciting. Which means that the transformation to suburban haus frau is complete. I went shopping. With my beauty pageant daughter. And then I blogged about it. Tomorrow's post will be about how to remove those stubborn coffee and tea stains from your white mugs (sneak preview: baking soda!).
It's a good thing.
Labels: me, pie, self-indulgence, shopping
3 Comments:
I just love your blog :) Thanks for provideing some laughs in the morning (all sales people intimidate the heck out of me)
And I love people who love my blog! :-) Thanks!!!
I guess there's something in the genes. I'm not sure where to begin, you're so much my daughter. You never had the option to dress well as a 3 year old, but you certainly got the same ogles from strangers...and I could have written the Sephora bit, only I didn't walk into the store until I was 60. I got the whole make-up spiel from a man with very dark skin who demonstrated how to use all the products on himself before trying them on me. Very funny. I bought a few things that made it out of the drawer once.
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