don’t lie to me, Neiman Marcus

I’m a sucker for the makeup counter, which is why back in April, I got talked into trading my beloved Laura Mercier Tinted Moisturizer for le Metier de Beaute Peau Vierge, which unfortunately for my budget, rings up at three times the price.

But it is so worth it.

Only a small amount is needed for as flawless skin as one might get when one has, well, flaws. I still use Laura Mercier for weekends and when I need a reapplication, but I have become a huge fan of the Peau Vierge.

My only complaint is that it comes in the kind of vessel that doesn’t reveal it’s about to run out until it’s actually out. And last week, I ranĀ out.

On Saturday when Emily was in town, we were in Friendship Heights, and I asked her if we could pop into Neiman Marcus so I could pick up a replacement bottle. We walked in, and I immediately saw the Metier de Beaute make up artist/rep who initially sold me the product. I was a little taken aback that he was so dismissive when I told him what I was there for. Instead of helping me himself, he beckoned to another counter for a sales associate. After several minutes, his makeup minion came over and when I told her what I wanted, she broke the sad news that they were out of my shade. Mr. Metier Makeup Artist immediately chimed in.

Mr. Metier Makeup Artist: Actually, it’s the manufacturer who is out of that shade so you can’t get it at all.

Me: For how long?

Mr. Metier Makeup Artist: Three weeks. It’s the manufacturer, not us.

(Yeah, I got that.)

Me: Well, that’s sad.

I turned to walk away.

Mr. Metier Makeup Artist: You should try a shade darker. I’m wearing the next shade and I have a lighter complexion than you.

Now maybe this guy doesn’t remember how the first time I was there, he gushed that 01 was the perfect shade for me. So I protested that I’m an 01 not an 02. He told me again that the manufacturer was completely sold out and I’d have to live without the product for at least three weeks.

Except when I got home, I ordered it from Nordstrom.

A message to Mr. Metier Makeup Artist: I know you want to make a sale but the thing is, don’t lie to me. Tell me your store is out, not the world. Be nice to me. Apologize profusely. Offer to apply some lipstick. Give me a free sample. If you had done any of those things, I probably would have used the Laura Mercier product I still have until you could get me Peau Vierge. But you screwed up. The lesson for you? Don’t try to sell me the wrong shade and don’t tell me it’s the manufacturer who is out. Now, I’m not going to buy makeup from you again. I’m sure it won’t put a dent in your sales, but you won’t have the pleasure of my company in a makeover chair, drinking in all your recommendations.

stop pinning and start writing

I never thought it would happen, but in the last 48 hours I have turned into a Pinterest monster. Finally.

Admittedly, I have come late to every social media craze. I resisted Facebook initially, but then I realized I could write really amusing updates. A blog? I barely ever read any before I started my own last year. I figured out Polyvore so that my blog readers would have something visual to connect to some of my posts, but I was going to draw the line at Twitter. Then one bored day, I bit the bullet. The Twittersphere is still somewhat of a mystery to me, but the friends I have made from this universe compel me to stick with it (plus it has great cyber-stalking capabilities).

I don’t remember when I was first invited to join Pinterest, but I do remember it was my friend Janna who said “you will love this.” However, like all interweb-related crazes, I took one look and was scared. Too complicated. Too time consuming. And what’s the point?

Then on Thursday night, as I was making my internet window shopping rounds searching for a dress for Kaitlan’s wedding, I started thinking, wouldn’t it be great to have a clearinghouse where I could keep track of all the looks and clothes and shoes I desire. Three hours later, I had finally given the scores of Pinterest followers I already had amassed something to actually look at. Friends were re-pinning my pins, liking my pins, commenting on my pins… all fuel for my Pinter-ego.

Friday morning, instead of making pancakes for my kids or heading straight out the door for the strep culture that would register positive when I finally went to the minute clinic later in the day, I pinned more. I organized my pins. I put thought into what categories I would like to pin. Pinterest is going to be the home of a humongous Chelsea wish list with economy-improving capabilities. After all, it’s fantasy. I don’t know how often I will pin recipes, inspirational quotes or arts and crafts, but if you want to know what dresses I covet or what lipstick I like to wear, look no further.

After 24 hours of being a Pinterest-aholic, I lamented to a real blogger, DC Celine (one of the dear friends I thank Twitter for) that Pinterest was going to be the death of my neglected blog. She had the brilliant idea of writing about Pinterest to break the writer’s block that has plagued me. She encouraged me to read her post on pinning and crib her idea.

I am proud to say that my writing took a different direction, but I’m happy for her inspiration. If I could pin her as a friend, I would.

But then that would be Facebook.