Makeup For Munchkins

I am back from Tejas, where Christmas is 70 degrees and sunny. What of the romance and cozy traditionalism of a white Christmas, you say, to which I say GET REAL.

Anyway, it's been an exciting and makeupful holiday - for one, my excellent parents somehow got me Icepearl. I don't know what they did to get it, and I don't want to, but it is as great as I remebered it being. All the adverts show it worn with heavy mascara and theatrical eye makeup, though I really like the way it looks with nothing but a bit of lipgloss. I also exchanged a turtleneck (they're against my religion) for the concealer I've been looking for all these years. It's from a Cheesy 90's Brand, but I love it... more to come.

Right now, though, I'd like to opine on the trickiness of shopping for makeup for/with my almost-12-year-old cousin, er, "Daisy." I promised Daisy a lipgloss for schlepping around the mall with me, and wanted to buy her something a little more special than her millionth Bonne Belle, but didn't want to give her some headtrip about Grown Up Womanhood either. She wanted scented, but my go-to fruity gloss Juicy Tubes is so sticky that it's bad news for active girls with long hair. The "scented" requirement ruled out Gloss Absolute from Fresh - too bad, as it's beautifully packaged, as to be expected from Fresh, and that what I was looking for as much as anything, just something that was pretty and fun for her to have, not majorly sophisticated Makeup. She liked Urban Decay's minty XXX Shine Gloss, but above and beyond the dubious product name, the shade she liked was called "Quickie." I am anything but The Prude and then some, but that strikes me as maybe not so appropriate for an almost-12-year-old. So I nixed it like the harridan bitch harpy Bad Older Cousin that I am.

Eventually, we decided upon Strawberry Lip Balm from the Rosebud Salve folks, otherwise known as the kind of shit with which I do not fuck around. Hey, who knew - perfect gift for preeteen girls. Actually moisturizing, pretty packaging, fruity but not candy-fruity smell, not too sticky so they can wear it when they trounce other preteen girls in soccer matches. And it's not called like, SlutGloss 5000 in Prostitute Pink. Which I would totally get for myself, btw.

It also costs $6.50, which alleviated some of the queasiness I was having over buying lipgloss in the 15-25 dollar range for a kid. Which I had been prepared to do, but was a little bit kicking myself for.