When one is young, one should use a lot of mascara. When one is older, one should use much more.
-Queen Dowager from The Prince and the Showgirl, 1957
I saw The Hunger Games with Christian, and we shocked ourselves by agreeing that it could have stood to be even longer than it was. We were both craving even more detail. But it was still satisfying and true to the book and wonderfully entertaining.
When little Rue kicked it, I got sad and teary and had to finally resort to using the brown paper movie theater napkins I nabbed for no apparent reason before the movie began.
The best part about crying is that my mascara doesn’t run- hell, it doesn’t EVER run because I use tube mascara, which is the subject of my love letter for today.
Dear tube mascara,
I love you with all my heart and soul.
Love, with all my heart and soul,
Jeanette B. Nyberg
As a teenager I was a fan of heavy eye makeup, complete with blackened inner eye rims and as many layers of mascara as I had time to brush on. This did not mix well with the fact that I suffered from severe seasonal allergies during pretty much every season.
I have horribly vivid memories of walking down the hall to my locker in the mornings, blinking away the tears from simply experiencing whatever happened to be airborne. I knew before checking out my reflection in the girls’ bathroom that those tears started as regular clear tears, but picked up a bunch of pigment on their way down my cheeks, leaving what looked like ink stains all over my face.
The waterproof mascara was worse, because it would migrate down, more slowly, but much more permanently under my eyes, leaving me looking 20 years early for the heroin chic trend.
Once upon a time, for no reason that I can remember, I discovered Blinc mascara, by Kiss Me. Or Kiss me mascara by Blinc. Whichever it is, they were terrible at branding because their tube was horribly designed, and they weren’t clear on which was their brand name and which was their product name. (They’ve since simplified to Blinc.)
Nevertheless, I fell hard for this $25 mascara. It is magical in that you swipe it on and it forms little plasticky tubes around your eyelashes. When you tire of being beautiful, the combination of light pressure and warm water releases the tubes all over your bathroom sink and you clap your hands and shriek with glee.
I can’t tell you what a revelation this was to me, probably much like people felt when antibiotics were invented.
Since then, I’ve tried the L’Oreal knock-off, which includes a white lash primer you’re supposed to brush on before the mascara, to make your lashes even more glam. I usually skip that part, though- their mascara is good- I don’t like it as much as Blinc, but it also costs a lot less and you can find it anywhere.
Someday if I’m brave, I’ll test out the lash-growth serums and take pics of my glamorous Bambi lashes. Until then, please tell me what you use on your lashes, because I need a good makeup voyeurism fix.