I pride myself on my healthy intellectual skepticism. I am a smart woman. I am university educated, a gal who has had more than the average share of book learnin' – yet I fall prey to the efforts of those in the cosmetics trade.
The weak link is my vanity. Mix in a little fear of aging, and voila, you have it – I become the person who will buy Jergen's Skin Firming Moisturizer. They market this stuff directly to me. Here's the claim:
"Firms skin and visibly reduces the appearance of dimpled skin with seaweed extract and caffeine"
Just be glad you weren't there for the internal dialogue.
Rational Brain: You idiot, this won't work. Vain Old Self: Oh, but what if it does! And it's only five bucks!
RB: But it won't work. They are lying to you, right there, on the package. They're waging a war with you... they've been waiting for the day you try on a bathing suit, when you're least happy with yourself, and THEN THEY POUNCE. I'm telling you, this stuff won't work. And if it did, it would cost a million dollars and liposuctionists would go out of business.
VOS: But it must have gone through some testing! It has to work, even just a little!
RB: You're a nutcase.
VOS: I'll give you that, but I will be an ENTIRELY SMOOTH LEGGED nutcase and then you'll be sorry.
RB: <sigh> Alright, you win. Tell the arm to put it in the cart.
Also, I wasn't sure if my body needed caffeine applied externally, there's already enough coursing through my system. Oh what the heck, I bought it.
Within two weeks the people at Jergen's promise their product will improve the firmness of my skin, make it softer and "look healthier, and "visibly improve the skin's texture" and enhance it's elasticity.
Today was day one. I applied it. It smelled nice. I like on the website how they instruct you to apply it to your whole body, "paying special attention to parts that could use a little lift."
Uh, ya, did that too. I will report back in two weeks and give a full report.
a.
<wednesday april 14, 2004 - 8:46 a.m>
I am carrying a pair of underwear in my purse. This may not be so strange except for the fact that they belong to my neighbor.
Awhile back Emma was playing over at the neighbor’s house. She didn’t make it to the toilet on time and wet her underwear. Understand however, she is fully toilet trained (almost 5 years old) but if a drop of pee gets on her underwear they are rendered unwearable.
Anyway, the mother offered Emma clean underthings belonging to her son. Emma, being the girliest girl I know would rather die a slow death involving ants and lollipop sticks rather than wear boy’s clothing that sports superhero motifs. There's also that weird pocket in the front. (!) So the mother offered her a pair of her own to wear.
I imagine this must have put her in an awkward place. Underwear isn’t something you just loan out, like a T-shirt, even though they are washed, bleached, and effectively sterilized by a burning-hot dryer. Frankly, if it were me I would have let the kid go fancy-free until the parent picked him/her up.
I wondered what her thought process was. Which pair should she loan out? A good pair? A bad pair? In the end (as she told me) she settled for the smallest pair she had. It happened to be a thong. My five year old came home wearing thong underwear.
The next day Emma was getting dressed, and she put her regular underwear on backwards. I told her to take them off and turn them around.
Nooooo mummy! It’s supposed to fit like this!
Uh oh. I feared that her underwear-wearing sensibilities had been warped at an early age, and that now she believed that “real” underwear had to, how do you say, fit uncomfortably in the fanny.
But since then, she’s gone back to her regular Fruit of the Looms without question.
Anyway, since I don’t know this person it feels decidedly odd to have her underwear in my possession. It’s been washed (and was hung to dry) but now I am embarrassed that I know she wears a thong. It’s been a couple of weeks since this all transpired, and I’m still carrying them around… Waiting for the appropriate time to do a handoff.
Anyway, since I don’t know this person it feels decidedly odd to have her underwear in my possession. It’s been washed (and was hung to dry) but now I am embarrassed that I know she wears a thong. It’s been a couple of weeks since this all transpired, and I’m still carrying them around… Waiting for the appropriate time to do a handoff.
