Conscious Beauty

I’ve been using Fiberwig Mascara very happily for several months now.  Unfortunately, I started getting really curious about the Diorshow Mascara and had to try it.  I blame all the great reviews on Sephora’s website.

I’m so glad I didn’t buy it at the full price.  I should have known that Diorshow wouldn’t work for me.  Why? Well, simply put, the brush.  The mascara brush, wand, whatever term you would like to use, is very big, very thick.  My lashes are very puny, very thin.  I have to say, I was sorely disappointed in the performance of this product.  I’m sure it works wonders on other lashes, but it doesn’t work for me.  It was somewhat clumpy, goopy (is that a word) and dry, all at the same time.

My lashes would've looked like this if I didn't know any better!

I can’t go into detail because it really didn’t do anything but clump and flake for me.

Fiberwig, I’m so sorry I betrayed you, and vow not to stray so easily again…

I love perfume.

I suppose, my love affair with perfume falls in line with my preoccupation with all things hair and beauty.  Honestly, I don’t think I had a choice when it came to falling hard for perfume.  It is said that a powerful link between scent and memory exists.  I believe this to be true.  It is because of (and through) my mother that I am a lover of perfume.  When I was a little girl, one of my favorite things to do was look at the beautiful perfume bottles that graced my mother’s dressing table.  I can still remember many of the names on those bottles: Guerlain, Givenchy, Rochas.  The scented elixirs were gorgeous, and, to me, my mom was the loveliest smelling person I knew.  In the center of all these perfumes on her dresser was a tiny cream box, outlined in black.  In this box held the treasure of my mother’s collection: 1 ounce of  Chanel No. 5 Parfum.  The bottle was tiny, delicate, and yet, with no more than a dab, the perfume lasted all day.  A quarter of an ounce of the same Parfum today would cost more than a hundred dollars, so I look back in wonder that she allowed me to hold, examine, and dab on, a perfume that many women can only enjoy in Eau de toilette strength.  As I became older, perfume became a necessary finishing touch for me when it came to getting ready.  In middle school, I would creep in my parents’ room in the morning and steal a spritz of Amarige de Givenchy or whatever else appealed to me.  Never was I told to stop, so it became a habit.  On the weekend,  I would go to The Bay in Yorkdale Mall with my mom and head straight to the perfume counter.  All the ladies in that department knew my mom pretty much by name.  It seemed that she could get what no one else could, whether it be a great deal on perfume, extras thrown in or generous samples that were supposed to be finished.  By no means is my mother a wealthy woman; however, she was savvy enough to save and put her extra pocket change away so that when she saw something she really wanted, buying it wouldn’t be an issue.  In high school, I went from visiting my mom’s room for perfume, to having my own impressive collection.  While most of my friends were putting their money into the latest sneakers and buying clothes full price retail, I was fully obsessed with perfume.  My mother encouraged this obsession/addiction and by graduation, the tables had some how turned and mom was visiting my room to spritz just as often as I visited hers.  On my wedding day, she presented me with a bottle of Vera Wang, knowing I had been coveting it.  It was my ’something new’ and fitting, somehow, since I couldn’t very well afford a Vera Wang wedding gown.  After I started having babies, loving perfume went on hold.  It just didn’t seem kosher to have my baby’s face against my skin while doused in a potential irritant.  I felt naked without wearing it, but stopped wearing  for a few years.  As of present, I’m trying to slowly rebuild my collection.  At 30, I honestly wish I had the collection I had at 17.  I have revisited some old favorites, which still smell fab on me, but I’ve also discovered that as one’s body chemistry changes (having kids, menopause, you name it) so does what works with one’s chemistry. A perfume that may have smelled lovely on you at 20, may not smell the same on you at 40.  Strange but true.  So, with sharing this little history of mine with perfume, look forward to seeing some posts featuring fragrances in all their glory.

It’s been a busy summer for me.  I helped plan a much needed, long awaited family reunion that was very much a success.  I spent two wonderful weeks in Jamaica and during that time, I had a major epiphany:  my home environment is no good for my skin.  I’ve come to accept that I will not ever be one of those women with a flawless complexion.  The fact is, most of my skin woes are tied to my hormones, and no cream can solve that.  However, during my vacation, I was having so much fun that I pretty much ditched my regular skin care routine.  I did everything that is a no-no for achieving good skin: drank too much alcohol, indulged in a couple of Cuban cigars, stayed up late, woke up early (not enough rest), didn’t drink enough water, and ate whatever looked delicious and most of the time I fell into bed (forget about washing my face).  The biggest surprise is that at this very moment, I have the skin I’ve always wanted.  It doesn’t have a mark or pimple.  It’s even (thanks to the island sun) and smooth.  I didn’t expect this at all.  Interestingly enough, there were a few others in my family that experienced the same phenomenon.  Now that I’m back home, I am awaiting the dreaded blemishes that are bound to appear on my face.  The only conclusion I can come up with, as to why my skin cleared up so beautifully, is that island life must agree with me.  I need to start playing the lottery and move some where tropical.

I’ve never been to Bora Bora. Let me start off with that admission. *smiles*

Despite the crazy weather we’ve been experiencing, summer is almost here.  Like most Canadians, summer is my favorite season.  As the weather gets warmer, my skincare/beauty regimen changes in order to accommodate my skin.  By the time it’s late June, body lotions and creams are completely banished and out comes the oil.  Sweet Almond, Sweet Cherry Kernel, Olive and Apricot Kernel oils are favorites of mine.  These oils come from plants/seeds and are quickly absorbed into the skin.  My skin glows and feels moisturized without having a slick coating that stays on top of my skin (unlike lotion, which can feel pretty disgusting if you start to sweat).  For skin that is prone to break outs, Fractionated Coconut oil is great.  It moisturizes without clogging pores, so this is perfect for someone like myself.  Lately, I’ve been using Monoi de Tahiti oil.  Basically, it is coconut oil steeped with Tiare (Tahitian Gardenia) flowers.  It smells like, well, Gardenia.  Genuine Monoi de Tahiti is backed by an Appellation d’Origine (a Guarantee of Origin) to protect the product’s quality and authenticity. The flowers are soaked in the coconut oil for a minimum of 15 days.  I like using this oil.  It smells good (admittedly, the smell can seem strong coming out of the bottle at first) and I smell like a Gardenia all day long.  My only complaint is that it doesn’t come in a bigger bottle.  One final note: Nars does sell a product that is supposedly Monoi de Tahiti oil; however, I refuse to pay $60 for it when the bottle I have (though not as aesthetically pleasing to look at) is definitely the genuine article and set me back a mere $6.50.  I can put the $53.50  I didn’t spend on Nars, towards my plane ticket to Bora Bora.