Friday, July 30th, 2010
Recently, a bunch of bloggers, myself included, blogged about Mac’s latest make up collection (in partnership with Rodarte), inspired by the city of Juarez. Juarez is a town in Mexico where over 400 girls have been raped and murdered and the killings never solved.
They namd items in the collection things like ‘Ghost Town’, which was highly inappropriate, given what has actually happened there. They also had no plans to donate any of the proceeds to a cause that could help the people of Juarez. It seemed like nothing more than profiting from people’s pain.
Hundreds of blogs were written about this and nearly 1300 people signed their name to a petition against it. Yesterday, the news came from Mac that they will now be donating 100% of the profits from this collection to the people of Juarez.
I’d like to congratulate each and every one of the bloggers who wrote about it and readers who shared the links with those they know. It was fantastic to see people coming together like this. I’d also like to give a special middle finger salute to the asshole who left a sarcasm-laced comment on my post saying how I was an ‘armchair activist’ and if I wasn’t donating my own money I should shut up. I may not have millions of dollars like Mac, but myself and the other bloggers did what we could to raise awareness of this issue and as a result, the people of Juarez will benefit from it rather than be bled dry.
If there is anyone out there who still doubts the power of blogging, this should be all the proof you need.
Sunday, July 18th, 2010
Far be it from me to make out as though I have any knowledge of the make up industry (I own like, two lipsticks and a powder – to say I’m clueless is an understatement), but my Twitter army of beauty bloggers recently brought something to my attention that deserves to be shouted about.
MAC Cosmetics new collection is inspired by the factory town of Juarez in Mexico. Nothing wrong with that, you say, inspiration comes from anywhere and everywhere, right? Well yes, but when you do a little research, you’ll find that more than 400 women have been raped, tortured and murdered in Juarez in recent years. Amidst allegations of police and government corruption, most of these killings remain unsolved. I don’t know about you, but the last thing that brings to my mind is a frikkin’ lipstick.
Most of these murdered girls worked in the factories in Juarez and were murdered while walking to or from work. MAC, in a moment of genius (or sheer, unadulterated stupidity, whichever way you wanna look at it) have called products in their new line ‘Factory’, ‘Badlands’, ‘ Ghost Town’ and other such mind-numbingly insensitive and offensive things, you’d be forgiven for believing they have trained chimps running the company.
MAC put out a statement saying that on a recent road trip to the area they were inspired and the collection is intended as a ‘celebration of the beauty of the landscape and the people’. First off, you went on a road trip which I’m assuming you made it back from. Congratulations, so many other women didn’t. Secondly, what exactly about the beauty of these people’s suffering did you want to celebrate?
When news spread, as it tends to do, like wildfire around the internet of this grossly insensitive collection, MAC responded with a statement saying that ‘MAC will give a portion of the proceeds of the MAC Rodarte collection to help those in need in Juarez’ and they’re trying to figure out a way to do that.
Umm, what? First of all, why are we talking about a ‘portion’? Furthermore, what is there to figure out? Just frikkin’ do it!
You know what the people of Juarez need? Some help, some hope and a non-corrupt government and police force who are actually willing to investigate these horrific crimes – not some goddamn lipstick and nail polish!
Here’s hoping someone over at MAC gets their head out of their ass in time for this giant blunder of epic proportions to be remedied. But as I said, I know little about the beauty industry. There is an army of extremely talented (and lovely) beauty bloggers out there, who are much more clued in about this subject matter and express it far more eloquently than I – I encourage you to check out their blogs on this topic (we are all posting our blogs at 8pm UK time tonight).
Mizz Worthy, British Beauty Blogger, Lady of The Lane, Big Fashionista, Vex in the City, So Far So Chic, London Makeup Girl, Get Lippie, London Beauty Queen, Krasey Beauty, Make Up Loveer, 6 Inch Stilettos, Sparkles & Bows, Healing Beauty, Really Ree, Just Nice Things, Make Up Advice Forum, Liloo, Make Up By Katy and of course Beauty Mouth
Tuesday, September 29th, 2009
We ladies are hit with a barrage of TV commercials about our crinkly, craggly faces, flat, lifeless eyelashes and our colourless lips. You can’t go more than a few minutes without a new product promising to solve all your beauty woes. But the products seem to be getting more and more ridiculous and there’s apparently a whole beauty lingo that we mere mortals are not up on.
One of these ads for some sort of age-defying, moisturising wonder potion boasts that it has Pro-Retinol A. Who among us is saying ‘Pro-Retinol A! Praise be to the skincare Gods!’? Am I the only one scratching her head saying ‘what the frik is that?’ But it’s said as if I’m supposed to know what it is. Just like I should know what Pro-Lastyl and Criste Marine extract are apparently. *blank stare*
There’s another ad for a moisturiser that contains Madecassoside, soy isoflavonoid, colloidal oatmeal, kukui nut, licorice hydrates, rice bran and yeast extracts. I can’t be sure, but I think they’re saying that basically, I can throw my breakfast on my face and look like a pre-teen.
Then there’s the ads for mascaras. Every single one of them boast that they’ll make for fuller, thicker, longer lashes. It shows these women applying the make up, then wandering through a dinner party in a Russian mansion, then it cuts to the close up at the end and what’s the message? That if you use their mascara, you can get fake lashes, that’s what. Bitch please if you think I’m buying into the idea that any of the lashes are real!
While I’m on the topic, what’s with all these claims that this mascara will give you ‘seven times the volume’? Seven times the volume of what? Who is making all these calculations? There’s a mad scientist locked up in a back room at Maxfactor somewhere drinking Vodka, laughing his ass off.
Now they’ve come out with this vibrating mascara. Am I the only one who feels like these companies are just messing with us? Give it five years, Lord only knows what we’ll be walking around with on our faces. It’s a scary thought.
Tags: being a slave to society's ideals of what a woman should be, make up, women
Posted in fashion | 12 Comments »
Tuesday, December 11th, 2007
While on the job hunt, I randomly meet this woman. She said she was looking for people, could she interview me tomorrow? Great! I said. She said she would come see me at home. This seemed a little odd, but if it saved me a trip, I was all for it.
The next day the doorbell rings and I answer it to see Carolyn, all smiles and ready to interview me. I invite her in and as she strolls past me, to my horror I see her wheeling a small suitcase behind her. Sweet baby Jesus – I’d been duped! As the reality sunk in that I was about to be introduced to the wonderful world of direct selling/pyramid schemes, my palms got sweaty and I frantically searched for ways to get her out of my house.
Before I knew it, she was setting up shop on the kitchen table. I reluctantly sat down and she said she would pamper me for a bit before showing me ‘the program.’
She took a folding mirror out of her kit and set it up in front of me along with a rather sad looking palette into which she had squeezed various lotions.
She began by showing me the cleanse, tone and moisturize stage. Taking her time and showing me how to do it myself, she annoyingly never deviated from her script. “How good does it feel? Great. How easy is this? It’s so simple.” Here she was just laying the groundwork for a day of questions she would answer herself. Having known for quite some time how to wash my face, I doubted we would make any groundbreaking discoveries during this ritual humiliation, but I ‘oooh’d’ and ‘aaah’d’ my way through it.
With that stage completed, she then subjected me to a series of ‘1-5 scales’.
“On a scale of 1-5, how does your skin feel? One being: ‘fabulous’ and five being: ‘not quite what I’m used to’. On a scale of 1-5, how would you rate the moisturizer? One being: ‘I’ve never felt anything like it!’ and five being: ‘I’ve used better’’.
On to the make up stage! First: the foundation. As there isn’t a shade called ‘pasty Irish’, she had to make her own concoction by mixing a few colors together to get the right blend for my skin. She smoothed some on my cheek and pulled me to the kitchen window to check it in the natural light. Unsatisfied with the natural light there, she marched me through the apartment and out the front door to the street. As she pondered over whether or not the tone was right, I was just praying none of the neighbors would see me with this crazy woman.
Finally content with the shade of foundation, she took me back inside and plastered layer upon layer of hideous make up on my face, all the while raving about how beautiful I was. When she was finished, I looked in the mirror to see that I had been transformed into a second-rate drag queen. ‘How fabulous is this? You look great!’ she cooed as I tried to keep myself from gagging.
At least now that the make up was done, I thought the end was in sight. But no, she then spent seven minutes (yes, I was counting) giving me a ‘hand facial’, which basically consisted of her putting hand cream on me. She kept raving about the lotion, asking and answering her own questions and then busting out the trusty 1-5 scale.
So, I now had a clown face (but extremely soft hands) and figured she was going to wrap things up. But no, I had to sit there for another 35 minutes, while she told me the story of how she got into the business and showing me ‘the program’. She’d pepper her script with random 1-5 scales. I’d made my own series of 1-5 scales in my head which mainly revolved around the theme of ‘on a scale of one to five, how badly do I want you out of my house right now? One being I would rather claw my own eyes out than listen to you utter one more word, five being….oh no, wait, that’s the only option.’ I sat there with one eye on the clock letting my mind wander to far more important issues; what would I have for dinner? Should I get a pedicure today? Do I need to buy milk? Could I take my second-rate drag queen show on the road?
When I snapped out of it, she was asking me if I could envision myself doing this. Clearly my tactic of being polite in the hope that she would go away quicker, was not working. There was no choice, it was time for some straight talking. I told her, I really couldn’t see myself doing that. I’d just moved here and I had full confidence in the fact that I would find a job in my field soon.
Seemingly not content with my answer she tried one last 1-5 scale to win me over. ‘OK, so on a scale of 1-5, what would it take for me to change your mind? One being: ‘I’d rather jump off a bridge before doing this’ and five being: ‘I will come to a group meeting to hear more about it?’
I decided to stick with my policy of straight talking. ‘Where’s the bridge?’
At long last, after an hour and a half of holding me hostage with nothing more than a mascara, she took the hint and left.