Women – Don’t Forget Your Boobs

 

I know, I should have used the word décolleté, but since I can’t pronounce it, I thought I’d just say boobs.  But more specifically, I’m talking about cleavage.

That’s right, cleavage.

In my recent search for skincare products and makeup for my aging face, I ran across a few things that absolutely surprised me.  For instance, most places have their own website.  Now, that’s not the surprising part.  What surprised me was how many websites there are.

I visited one store’s web address, and over on the right was a box to search products by brand.  I clicked it.  You know how when you’re filling out your mailing address on an internet form and you have to choose your country from a dropdown menu?  Well, that’s what this list looked like.  On this particular site, though, there are no brands that begin with ‘q’ or ‘x’.  Every other letter of the alphabet had multiple choices.  The list was simply voluminous.

I quickly disengaged from the overwhelming ‘brand’ menu and instead opted for the skin care link.  Another massive drop down menu appeared.  On it was the choice neck and décolleté.

Really?  Seriously?  There’s not only a skin care line with this as an option, there are numerous skin care lines that include products geared specifically for the support of this upper region of a woman’s body.

Maybe I shouldn’t be shocked.  Maybe I’ve just been missing out on a lot by not being a girly girl all these years and simply failing to keep up with it all.  But sitting here this morning, a newcomer to cosmetics, I am absolutely amazed by what the industry has come to.

I remember my grandmother’s big, blue, economical jar of Noxzema.  Beside it on the sink was a smaller, pink jar of Oil of Olay.  Somewhere in the house was a jar of Vaseline.  That’s it.  Her entire line of cosmetics could be found at the local drug store, and nowadays can be found in any grocery store.

It’s not simple anymore.  Now that I’m thinking about skincare and seriously considering my options with makeup and such, I not only have to think about whether my facial skin is oily, dry, or combination, I also have to consider whether I’m targeting specific signs of age such as wrinkles and age spots.

I also have to have some knowledge of specific areas of my body that I want to address.  I now know that I have a T-zone that apparently requires millions of dollars to fix.  Only it will never be fixed, it will only be addressed and monitored.  And I have a gazillion choices of products designed solely for that purpose.

There’s a questionnaire to aid in selection of skin care products.  It only has two hundred and fifty seven questions on it, like whether or not I’m in the sun a lot or a little, or some range in between.  Questions with regard to how regularly I bathe, and how many children I have.  One question wanted me to reveal how often I have sex.  Answering these will apparently help me determine which products I absolutely won’t be able to live another day without.

Some of these places also carry a luggage line from which I can choose the appropriate suitcase to store all my new stuff.

If I want, I can devote my entire next paycheck to products intended exclusively for my lip care.

And don’t forget the eleven age defying items from one particular store, all under different brand names, each sold separately, that are designed exclusively for my neck and décolleté, ranging in price from thirty-eight to one hundred fifty dollars.  This last is for a mere one point seven ounces of cream.

It’s a good thing I’m happy with my shampoo, otherwise this post could have been a lot longer.

To the cosmetic industry, my boobs thank you.  Whatever would I (we) have done without you?

 

 

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6 Comments

Filed under Daily Life

6 responses to “Women – Don’t Forget Your Boobs

  1. LOLOLOLOL! Yes, it’s like that. I’m with your grandmother, myself 😉

  2. ha,ha, giggle, laugh, roar..smile….still grinning

  3. Hmm. I don’t think there’s any miraculous result that would motivate me to spend that kind of time on my boobs… I wish I cared, but I don’t. Does this make me a bad ‘woman?!’

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