The Tuesday that Feels Like a Monday

In the spirit of easing into the week, I'm having a catch-up pajama day over here. I just wrote an article to send to one of my all-time favorite magazines, and I hope they'll want to print it. Fingers crossed.

I've also been thinking about beauty products.

Back when I was spending my parents' money, I had expensive tastes in hair care and makeup. Clinique, Estee Lauder, and of course super-sized cans of Paul Mitchell hair spray cluttered my countertop. No "bonus gift" or "gift with purchase" passed me by, even if the colors were all wrong for me. But back in the 80's, sometimes the colors were so wrong they were right, you know?

It was as I got older (poorer, cheaper, thriftier) that I made the move to CoverGirl, Maybelline, and the occasional Wet'n'Wild product.

Well, at thirteen, thanks to Youtube videos and Pinterest, Margaret makes my previous champagne tastes seem more like Milwaukee's Best. She is familiar with every high-end product at Sephora and is skilled at using them. The good news is, she is introducing me to a few new products and helping me figure out how to keep my sparse yet unruly brows "on point" as they say these days. She also managed to help me look like I'd had a full night's sleep by dotting white eye shadow on the inner corner of my eyes. Who knew?

The bad news is, I am not comfortable supporting a $50 a pop toiletry habit, even though the desire for "bonus gifts" was passed down from my genes to hers.

Her desire for more products/more money led to a little mother-daughter furniture painting adventure, taking this sad little nightstand with its cheap plastic knob:

 To this shabby chic charmer.

Selling it on our local yard sale site means Margaret pockets $25.

Which I think translates to about 1/2 a high-end mascara and hopefully more mother-daughter enterprises like this one!