Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Outside a glittering building of glittering glass and burning light

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

In the window of the local pharmacy.

Where to start? With the saddle? Well okay then. Sexy, huh? And a mere €25 in the tiny bike shop in Duras. It was the last one though, so your hastily formed plans of a flight to Bordeaux and a three hour cycle to that shuddering memory-filled castle town are all for naught.

And now. Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot.

Let us glide gracefully by the sickening deconstruction of the word "vanity" and concentrate on the sentiment. Isn't vanity a bad thing? Aren't vain people cunts? You can rhetoric the fuck out of those questions, folks, because it is and they are. I speak with knowledge. Narcissus ain't got shit on me. If I didn't have so much other dreary dross to do, I would happily spend my days gazing at my stunning visage as self-snapped on my phone, over and over again. And I am bad, I am a cunt, the mitigating circumstances of my intense beauty notwithstanding.

"Organic". Really? You fuckers are trying to make us believe that the colouring of ones skin to a fluorescent shade of Ulster says no is a natural act, perfectly in tune with the concept of Gaia? If it's organic, sure we can spray it in our eyes! My eyes have always lacked a decent tan, try as I might to stare down the sun.

"Make up by Smashbox." Apparently this is a well known brand of cosmetics. Well, fine. But it sounds to me very much like the makeover master intends to lay hands upon a hefty sledgehammer, dab it lightly with foundation and then repeatedly slam said hammer into the lucky débutante's face. Sure, you're choking on cheekbone fragments and the blood is making it difficult to see, but your nose is a lot smaller and golly but that's the perfect shade for your skin tone.

"False Eyelashes From €15". The "from" is somewhat suspicious, is it not? Are we talking €15 per eye? Per lash? Just how big are these glued on spiders anyway? Were I to be feeling creative might I have them applied to somewhere apart from my eyes? I'm thinking nostrils. There's a beauty trend to be started there, folks. If teenage girls can be convinced of the desirability of a skeletal frame and Uggs, then a bushy nasal hair trend must surely be imminent.

And so to the teeth. What would an eighteen year old have had to be doing with his or her life to be in need of laser whitening? Eschewing brushing? Avoiding all sources of calcium? Chewing baccy? The endless cud churning of gum just wasn't hitting the spot any more? I have no idea what this procedure involves, but I'm confidently guessing that it's intrusive, ineffective and ultimately bad for teeth. I will hear no scientific facts on this point.

In conclusion. What are we? Who has this kind of money to fuck away on such filth? How is this acceptable? By shelling out on all these servitudinal services for one's daughter one is effectively saying "My darling, your skin is the wrong colour, your plain face needs pimping, your lashes are like nasal hairs and Jesus Christ, but the state of your fucking teeth. You ugly, ugly loser bitch." We're all saying it, to all those young women. And by not putting a brick through that window I'm saying it too. You ugly, ugly loser bitches.

10 Johns and Janes for the comment whore:

Manuel said...

and there are beauty parlours for kids these days too.....meh.....

but I do love the idea of teenagers on chewing baccy....sitting about spitting and saying yup a lot.....not so different then really

Fat Sparrow said...

Arsenic and lead are organic, too, and women used to put those on their faces as makeup. Strangely enough, the custom died off. Or was that "out"? Either way, not such a good idea.

"but I'm confidently guessing that it's intrusive, ineffective and ultimately bad for teeth"

You're right on this one. There are no long-term studies, but anytime you mess with tooth enamel, it's pretty much weakening it. They'll all have teeth like glass 20 years from now, and then the industry can sell them veneers.

The Spouse Sparrow did a spew take the first time he saw our local beauty parlor. There's a big sign in the window that says "VIRGIN RELAXER." We lived in da hood, and it has to do with getting black girls' hair straight, a lengthy process the first time it's done. 8 years he would walk by that sign and shake his head.

I should have had him take a picture, dammit.

Conan Drumm said...

I'm stuck in a mental segue between smash-box and snack-box, and the image of breaded & baked débutantes just won't go away.

I hope you went in and asked for the name of a reasonable limo service because, like, it's sooo ahead of you. [Brings me back a decade, you see.]

Cool saddle, but only for the iron-bunned.

Medbh said...

The worst part is the Vani-T.

Not only are they pushing compulsory femininity, they also want girls to be vapid morons.
Boo hiss.

Rosie said...

I'm stuck in a mental segue between smash-box and snack-box...

aren't we all, Conan. entirely why i'm overweight and palefaced.

gimme a minute said...

I always wanted a spittoon. Ideally one that clamps onto handlebars.

Fat Sparrow:
I was an extremely tense virgin.

Spew take. Excellent.

You got it backwards. The layers of adipose tissue on my generous ass provide ample cushioning.

I think Vani T is the worst part too, but for stupid spelling reasons.

Is that a metaphor?

fatmammycat said...

Gothy had her debs yesterday, she took a girl date, borrowed a dress, did her own make-up, brushed her teeth with toothpaste, applied eye lashes a camel would be envious of and was the exact colour of Apu from the Simpsons. Small steps Gimmie, that's how you break them. Anything else is folly.

Conan Drumm said...

Hurrah, and huzzah for La Gothy. But wot, no limo for les girlz?

problemchildbride said...

I am shin-grazingly despairing of the whole idea of a debs. Does this mean a debutante ball? Traditionally meant to indicate a young woman's coming out into society and eligibility for marriage? Viz "she's on the market now, lads!"

But I am speaking as a mother. I bet if I were that age I would look upon it as a(nother) fabulous excuse to get dressed up and finish the evening drinking carry-outs in the woods with the rest of my year.

gimme a minute said...

My parenting feet feel too big and awkward for small steps. But I'm tryin' Ringo, I'm tryin' real hard...

I think that's about the size of it. The only coming out happening is vomit from the nostrils of those who have been drinking for twelve hours straight.

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