I should have been a shepherdess. People call me “Gigi of Assisi” because of my great love for animals. Just put me in a county fair and I’m in my element, slobber and all (fear not, as I am meticulous about washing). I’ll befriend all of the animals, especially sheep and goats (Stylemama, I am seriously jealous that you had a goat growing up–not fair!). I’ve only been slightly annoyed with goats once: My entire family went to Oglebay for a vacation years ago. It has a lovely zoo. All of the little ones in the children’s petting zoo pen were having a splendid time with the aforementioned creatures. My husband and mom both said, “Oh, please, I know you’re going in–but you’ll look peculiar as the only adult.” Headstrong as I am, I dismissed their advice and entered the pen. The goats were a delight as they gathered around me and I fed and pet them. Only one slight problem–I didn’t realize that they were eating a good bit of my white cotton top and held me captive, nearly to the point where I could have been arrested for indecent exposure. I bellowed desperately for rescue and my husband and family members were bent over laughing, streams of tears running down their faces, taking pictures of my humiliation!
That did not deter me. The little beasts are still lovable. Later that summer we went to an animal safari park in Ohio. It is a vast, African-like terrain where you pay admission, buy food for the inhabitants, and drive and hand them treats. We were warned to keep our car windows fully open or closed; half-open windows evidently confuse them.
And what a menagerie it is! It was “Noah’s Ark, the Sequel.” There were animals in one large group who would never congregate naturally. Deer, camels, bison, sheep, goats, cows, llamas, and most of God’s creation stood before us in a pack, blocking our way to go further without carrots sticks and foul-smelling pellets. Of course I demanded that our windows be completely down to experience it fully despite my husband’s pleading and a bison fell in love with him. Its massive head was in the window and it walked alongside the car, licking him like an ice cream cone. I still laugh when I picture Ron screaming in complete terror, “Get this monster the hell away from me–I’ve been slimed! I want to go to the carwash! No, I want to go home!” I contend that it was payback for his laughing at my edible shirt. I was fortunate enough to garner the attention of a camel. After eating, it rested its head in my lap. There are two things I will never forget about camels: Their heads are far heavier than you would imagine and my legs went numb; and their eyelashes are so ample, long, and resilient that, placed on a pole, could serve as an industrial-strength broom.
So the subject here is eyelashes. I have eight–four on each eye. I can use drugstore mascara, Lancome, or Givenchy’s “Phenom” eyes and I still have difficulty bringing definition to my eyes and spend a lot of time on them.
Several weeks ago, I found L’Oreal’s Lash Boosting Serum in my drugstore. The package promised that my eyelashes would be nourished, fortified, and strengthened. A line from an obscure song by Castaways came to mind, “Liar, liar, your pants are on fire! Your nose is longer than a telephone wire” and resounded there as I stood reading. For shame, L’Oreal, you who give us wonderful products. Do you think we’re idiots? I bought it. I was going to expose this fraud and tell the truth. I was going to bring them to their knees.
The truth? It works! I was completely and utterly stunned. The comforting formula contains Beeswax, Carnauba wax, and Palm and Jojoba oils to nourish. Also included is Panthenol (think of Pantene products here and their ability to silken). I’ve been using it for two weeks.
This is not as exciting as “Avatar,” but it comes close! Simply use the bristle-less wand on clean eyes in the morning and at night. Coat lashes, tending especially to the miniscule ones, and then use the tip as you would a pencil or liquid above lashes to draw a line. There is an immediate cool, refreshing feeling and lashes are pliable. You can apply mascara over it once it dries. L’Oreal claims that you will have healthier, resilient results in weeks, but I saw improvement with the first few applications!
Mine were gently curled upward by the serum. It reflects light and calls attention to your eyes. Depending on your desired degree of drama, you may even be able to skip mascara. I love a treatment which functions as a cosmetic. Mine have actually grown slightly and are less prone to damage. They are more glossy, voluminous, and lush than before, noticeable to family and friends. This works for those with sensitive eyes and contact lens wearers.
My sole complaint with L’Oreal now? The back of the package advises that you don’t dilute it with water or saliva. Gee, thanks–I didn’t know that I shouldn’t spit in my cosmetics. I’ll quit doing it.
Who else has had a great surprise drugstore find?