I’m in the ladies’ bathroom at work, washing my hands like you’re supposed to — and I only say this because there are a surprising number of people who don’t and ewwww — when I spy a stack of catalogs nearby. I don’t know what it is about the bathroom but people tack up all sorts of advertisements, from $800 cars to “discount” Botox injections to a run-down house in the bad part of town. (Who are these people and why are they in our bathroom?)

Unfortunately, it’s only the four or five Avon catalogs typical for a monthly mailing. Now, at my last job, the Avon lady came religiously, despite the fact that her original customer had long since left. I made the mistake of picking up a few things for relatives and found myself on her list. I’d get e-mails. And she’d come in with her little sacks of catalogs, smiling and hopeful and I’d take pity on her and order lip balm and a cheap plastic ring. Our purchasing agent ordered some shampoo or lotion for his dog, specifically mentioning it was for his dog, and next week, she showed up with an extra little sack of catalogs, proudly advertising the newest concealers or nail polish.

I didn’t mind Avon’s stuff; it was cheap and you got what you paid for. Some of it was actually pretty awesome — like the aforementioned $4 lip balm — and some of it was crap but it was a cheap way to experiment with styles and looks. (Then again, it’s hard to mess up sheer lip glosses and shimmery barely-there eyeshadows. Such is markbyAvon.) I think I even got suckered into some of their skincare but the only thing I ever found success with was discontinued shortly after I (somehow) won it from Allure magazine.

Anyway, looking through the catalog and all its under-$10 items, I reflected on how things have changed. I went from a world of $5 eyeshadow palettes and $2 lip glosses to shelling out $15 for a small pot of lip gloss and $23 tubes of mascara. I’m going to MAC this weekend to have them slap on a Halloween look, which requires a $50 purchase and seriously? I could accomplish that with three items. Two if I’m particularly skilled.

And then I think about my husband, who uses his shampoo as body wash and hair cleanser — men! — and suddenly, I’m very self-conscious about the huge three-drawer container of make-up sitting on my bathroom counter. (It can hold a ream of paper! Huge!) Granted, the male equivalent of make-up is aftershave and eyebrow grooming isn’t even a remote possibility in their world but still! Why do I have all this make-up? And high-end make-up at that?

(This doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get me gift cards to Sephora though. Christmas is coming!)

As a woman, it’s so easy to get caught up in what “they” tell you and what other women are buying. Life is about what you look like and what you spent and what brands you’ve bought. Appearances are everything. Slather on the make-up! Mascara! Eyeliner! Five shades of eyeshadow! Cream blush or powder? Lipstick topped off with sparkly lip gloss! Foundation layered with powder and concealer!

And yet?

I love it all.

Still, I think I’m going home and cleaning out my make-up, um, chest? Bin? Closet? (Of course, this will only tempt me to buy more…)

Filed under: beauty