“Sam! I have coupons!”
Just like that, my ears perk up, and I smile. That word is like music to my ears: coupons. Coupons, coupons, coupons. Because in my mind, coupons = discounts = cheap purchases I can actually afford = the instant gratification of retail therapy. God, I love coupons.
Unfortunately, coupons make me do stupid shit.
“Why the hell did I buy this?” I ask myself thirty minutes later. My dad and I are back from CVS, where we went to pick up some prescriptions for my mom. I needed driving practice, so I tagged along and drove both ways. And, in typical Sam fashion, I lingered in the beauty and skincare section while my dad picked up the meds. I don’t need any makeup. Shit, I have enough makeup to make up a small army for months (and this is after PARING DOWN my collection.)
Enter my father with a post-transaction beauty aisle coupon in hand.
I walk out of CVS with a cream blush and a foundation.
Guys, I don’t wear blush OR foundation on a regular basis! I know damn well that any foundation I buy will collect dust in my dresser drawer because foundation makes me look and feel overly done-up. Yet I buy it anyway! I have bottles of it! I’ve gotten rid of the grimiest of the foundation bottles I once had, but still. For someone who claims to like natural, no-makeup makeup, I have a hell of a lot of makeup.
I could blame the stupidly huge amount of beauty gurus I watch on YouTube or makeup blogs I follow on Tumblr. I could even blame my father for enabling me with his promise of cheap(er) makeup. But that’s besides the point.
Why the hell did I buy that makeup?
Because I felt compelled to. Because I deluded myself into believing the impermanence of a coupon–and, because I was raised to never turn down a bargain, I indulged myself. I bought shit I didn’t need. I bought shit I probably won’t use up before it expires and starts to break out my skin.
I have a weird relationship with makeup. Since it’s so cheap (especially at the drugstore, where you can find super-cheap $.99 thrills in the form of eyeshadow quads or sticky lip glosses), I temporarily forget that a) I’m wasting my money and b) I DON’T ACTUALLY NEED MAKEUP. God forbid a moment actually come up when I need to replace a product I finish. All hell breaks loose at that point.
If I’m ringing up a replacement concealer at the register…well, shouldn’t I take advantage of the ExtraBucks deal and splurge of some lipstick and mascara?
No. No, no, no. I shouldn’t.
Just ’cause it’s cheap doesn’t mean I need it. Just ’cause it’s on sale doesn’t mean it’s a smarter purchase (or that I’ll use it more than I would if I bought it full price.) Sales are the greatest freaking scam of the 21st century. You’re never actually getting the goddamn deal you think you are.
I’m angry at myself, if you couldn’t tell. More than that, though, I’m angry that I live in a society where quality, functionality, and practicality are sacrificed in the name of a “good deal.”
Just like that, my ears perk up, and I smile. That word is like music to my ears: coupons. Coupons, coupons, coupons. Because in my mind, coupons = discounts = cheap purchases I can actually afford = the instant gratification of retail therapy. God, I love coupons.
Unfortunately, coupons make me do stupid shit.
“Why the hell did I buy this?” I ask myself thirty minutes later. My dad and I are back from CVS, where we went to pick up some prescriptions for my mom. I needed driving practice, so I tagged along and drove both ways. And, in typical Sam fashion, I lingered in the beauty and skincare section while my dad picked up the meds. I don’t need any makeup. Shit, I have enough makeup to make up a small army for months (and this is after PARING DOWN my collection.)
Enter my father with a post-transaction beauty aisle coupon in hand.
I walk out of CVS with a cream blush and a foundation.
Guys, I don’t wear blush OR foundation on a regular basis! I know damn well that any foundation I buy will collect dust in my dresser drawer because foundation makes me look and feel overly done-up. Yet I buy it anyway! I have bottles of it! I’ve gotten rid of the grimiest of the foundation bottles I once had, but still. For someone who claims to like natural, no-makeup makeup, I have a hell of a lot of makeup.
I could blame the stupidly huge amount of beauty gurus I watch on YouTube or makeup blogs I follow on Tumblr. I could even blame my father for enabling me with his promise of cheap(er) makeup. But that’s besides the point.
Why the hell did I buy that makeup?
Because I felt compelled to. Because I deluded myself into believing the impermanence of a coupon–and, because I was raised to never turn down a bargain, I indulged myself. I bought shit I didn’t need. I bought shit I probably won’t use up before it expires and starts to break out my skin.
I have a weird relationship with makeup. Since it’s so cheap (especially at the drugstore, where you can find super-cheap $.99 thrills in the form of eyeshadow quads or sticky lip glosses), I temporarily forget that a) I’m wasting my money and b) I DON’T ACTUALLY NEED MAKEUP. God forbid a moment actually come up when I need to replace a product I finish. All hell breaks loose at that point.
If I’m ringing up a replacement concealer at the register…well, shouldn’t I take advantage of the ExtraBucks deal and splurge of some lipstick and mascara?
No. No, no, no. I shouldn’t.
Just ’cause it’s cheap doesn’t mean I need it. Just ’cause it’s on sale doesn’t mean it’s a smarter purchase (or that I’ll use it more than I would if I bought it full price.) Sales are the greatest freaking scam of the 21st century. You’re never actually getting the goddamn deal you think you are.
I’m angry at myself, if you couldn’t tell. More than that, though, I’m angry that I live in a society where quality, functionality, and practicality are sacrificed in the name of a “good deal.”
