Welcome readers, old and new!
Please hit the ❤️ above to illuminate fairy lights across all the misty gloaming around the world. Then, remind yourself that fairies do exist.
Continuing the theme of what’s in the beauty zeitgeist at the moment, I recently felt compelled—Marie Kondo-style—to curate my (smallish) skincare collection, pitching anything that was more than 10 (or 20?) years old. Then, I received several emails from readers declaring they’d recently thrown out various skincare products they bought and never used. Then, I saw this in an essay by Anne Lamott in The Washington Post.
…So twice a year I go to Sephora and announce that I’d like to buy a miracle, and wonderfully, they always have the exact right thing. I use it for a month, and then I put it in the bottom drawer with the other miracles…
That excerpt reminded me of something I wrote not long ago about an extremely popular and expensive skincare product. From there (still with me?), I asked myself the question I often do when compelled to buy something I don’t need: What is it I really want right now? Most of the time it’s not what I’m thinking of buying.
Sometimes I realize I’m just thirsty—literally. But I’ve recently discovered it can be fun to shop your own closet (or bureau, or jewelry box). You might find—as I have—that that adventure has become particularly interesting since the pandemic, if you, like me, now wear 1/100th of what you used to wear. Which likely means you haven’t been acquainted with a lot of your stuff for several years.
Is it too far a leap to then ask yourself, when you look in the mirror and are less than happy with your reflection: What is it I really want right now? Sure, maybe the answer is a facelift. But it’s worth asking the question and taking the time to give it thought.
More zeitgeist material: A few questions arrived simultaneously from readers in different circumstances with a common issue: marionette lines. If you’re wondering where the name comes from, you might be interested in this excerpt from a fascinating website.
The puppet is not only a formal creation, a theatre language, or an art object: it is also a figure which, in almost all cultures, has embodied questions on the origin of life and death, on the relation between the visible and the invisible, and the relation between the spirit and the matter. From the myth of Pygmalion, whose statue comes to life, to Plato’s cave, where the world is described as a theatre of shadows projected by puppets, there are many narratives that make use of the puppet. In fact, the puppet is used in many forms of religious rites and performances, from Nativities (Nativity Scenes) to carnivals or sacred theatre in India. The puppet thus illustrates, in both concrete and a metaphoric way, religious beliefs, philosophical concepts, and aesthetic and theatrical theories. In turn, all of these explore the issue of the unstable and porous frontiers between the living and the inanimate…
Bolding is mine. Is the way we’re inclined to objectify our face related to our proclivity or urge to blur the frontier between the living and the inanimate? As we yearn to freeze ourselves in time? Anyway… marionette lines.
The beauty Q&A in this post is available only to paid subscribers. For full access to all posts—and if you value reader-supported work—please become a paid subscriber at the current rate of $40/year. If you can’t afford a subscription, email me at valeriemonroe.substack.com and I’ll comp you one, no questions asked. 🙏🏻
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to How Not to F*ck Up Your Face to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.