A small icon in consumerism.

1. The basic divide between low-maintenance and high-maintenance girls is those who do not wear mascara and those who do. Once you wear mascara, you're committed to an entire ritual, not unlike the wearing of high heels.


2. I have a strange ability to see through things, but I have absolutely no perception of surfaces, which is why this blog tends to stress the things that it does, though it is ostensibly about surfaces. I see people as they are, but am blind to who they want to be, much to my consternation, because existential knowledge is rather useless, while almost 98% of social interactions are based on superficial assessments. It isn't that I'm not affected by appearances, but I have rarely found any great degree of accuracy in face values. Or maybe I resent that I have no idea how to exploit it for my own benefit. I also suspect that if the majority of celebrities, whose unreasonable income is based on aforementioned exploitation of aforementioned surface values, were to disappear from this earth, we would not be the worse off. What is it that I always say? "Hollywood is the myth-making instinct of the human turned into a business." Saint Lohan. Aphrodite herself as Marilyn Monroe. Beauty is a blatant thing, full of desire and fury, signifying nothing.


3. Leafing through the June issue of Vogue (speaking of desire and fury), I am startled by the surgings of inadequacy that threaten me at every turn of the page. Why am I not attending art shows of dubious merit in Alexander McQueen? Where, o where, are my fucking diamonds? Who gives a shit about Bruni-Sarkozy? (Hadley Freeman sums it up perfectly for The Guardian.) How should I feel about Vogue writing some quirky, clever fluff-piece about tragically bumfuck*-poor Timbuktu like it's a social signifier?
   
   Meh. Stupid, right? Anna Wintour's Vogue differs from Cosmopolitan by a simple ploy of elitism: same vulgarity, made super, über, unrealistically posh. At least the fashion spreads were excellent. I despise Sex and the City out of principle (more stupid women), but the shoot was exquisitely styled, I may say, even sublime:
   MOMA, Narciso Rodriguez, and... can you hear my eyes rolling out of my head? It may be the museum setting. I know, I'm a dork. Did I tell you, I once took shrooms in an art museum? That's my idea of a perfect day.


4. So how is it that I write about beauty every day? Well, I write about beauty products, I anthromorphize objects instead of objectifying people, and my main philosophy towards consumerism hinges around a minimum requirement rather than the next-new-thing-omigod. For example, I dislike beauty services: haircuts, haircolor, blowouts, facials, waxing, manicures, pedicures, you name it. Beauty, to me, has always been about control, and I don't like giving it up to someone else. All the same, I would enjoy regular massages.


5. My biggest, darkest beauty secret of all? The truth is, I rarely wear any makeup.

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