Lipstick Colors Speak Volumes in a Maine Spring
So Saturday, I spent a little over $80 on lipstick. Really! And I’m over the moon happy about it, too!
See, I’ve been wearing the same shade of lipstick for years: “Berry Nice.” (Who comes up with these names, anyways?) It’s the perfect shade of lipstick for me: not too red, not too orange, not too pink. It’s just, well, Berry Nice!
Oh, I’ve experimented with other colors over the years, but they never quite measure up. They might look good in the store. (I confess, if they don’t have a tester, sometimes I break the seal and try it on my hand.) But when I get the lipstick home and try it on for real: disaster! I either look washed out, or my skin seems kind of sallow. Or the color’s too hard. Something! It’s just a waste of money. Best to stay with what works.
So about a month ago, when I went to the Rite Aid in town and saw that there was no Berry Nice in the rack, I felt a little flutter in my tummy. I check back the next week: still no Berry Nice. I usually keep a few tubes of Berry Nice on hand, you know: one in my makeup bag, one in my pocketbook, and an emergency back up. By week three, I was down to my last tube of Berry Nice. Things were getting serious! I tried going to the Rite Aid in Dover-Foxcroft and the one in Dexter: no Berry Nice. I was thinking about just throwing myself on my mascara wand and ending it all.
My last hope was Bangor. So this weekend, when I suggested to Charlie that we go to the big city for a date night, maybe have dinner at the Olive Garden, I had an ulterior motive. Charlie went for it, though, ‘cause he wanted to go to Sears and browse the tool department. They had a sale going on and Charlie was looking for some new gadget or other.
So I ask Charlie to stop at the Rite Aid when we get into Bangor.
“No need to come in. I’ll just be a minute.”
I go in, bee-lining it for the cosmetic section, ever hopeful. When I see that lonesome, empty spot in the rack where the Berry Nice is supposed to be, my heart sinks.
“Can I help you find something?” the sales clerk asks me, looking cute as a button.
“Yes, I’m looking for some Berry Nice lipstick, but there’s none in the rack.”
“Gee,” she says, “I think that’s been discontinued.” The panic must have shown on my face, because she goes, “We just pulled a bunch of stuff to send back to the manufacturer. I can check and see if there’s any still in the storeroom.”
“Would you? Please?” I know I sounded desperate, ‘cause I was. Off she went to check, and I closed my eyes and said a quick little shopping prayer to my dearly departed mother.
I just hate it when things I like get discontinued, don’t you? A special moisturizer, body wash, a style of bra. You know what it does? It makes me feel old and unpopular, like I’m not keeping up with the times. I was starting to feel a little sorry for myself when my sales clerk returned.
“Found some!” she says. “Out back. The color’s been discontinued, but we haven’t shipped them out yet.”
“Thank God! How many tubes do you have?”
“I’ll take ‘em.”
“As many as you got!”
So, that’s how I come to spend a little over $80 on lipstick. And boy, did I have a bounce in my step as a left the store!
“Find what you needed?” Charlie asks.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.” (No need to go into details.)
Crisis averted — temporarily, at least. But it’ll buy me time to get used to the idea of finding a new lipstick color. ‘Til then, everything’s berry nice!
That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side!
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