Hate to Love
Tell us about a guilty pleasure that you hate to love.
Some of us indulge in chocolate or wine or candies, desserts
I too, have an indulgence.
A weakness so all encompassing that I will always be its slave.
I will work overtime, hoard gift cards, I’d write a letter to Santa if I thought it could help in just so that I can go to the Mall and indulge until I can’t stand it anymore-
in makeup by Dior.
I’m not a Dior kind of woman- I buy my clothes from a store called Hot Topic and most of the times my socks ( which are all brightly printed and have weird patterns) don’t match. But who cares? I wear motorcycle boots and hiking shoes most of the time. It’s not like anyone can actually see them.
But when I discovered Dior makeup a few years ago, I was lost.
I loved climbing into the chair at the makeup counter. I wouldn’t just sit there and get makeup applied- I’d sing the praises of Dior right along with the saleswoman.
We’d discuss colors, the right makeup brushes to use, what the next season’s color lines were going to be ( I felt like a kid on Christmas morning when I found that out ).
Strange to say – as I would make my purchases I would glance furtively around in the hope that…
nobody I know would see me there.
I mean, how would I explain myself?
I could easily go out and buy the same colors in pretty packaging for less money- a lot less money.
I do feel wicked when making those purchases.
But the luxury I feel when I apply the makeup to my face, my eyelids, my lips…I am lost the minute I open that tube of lipstick.
I should give that entire line up.
But I can’t.
I hate to love my Dior makeup.