I took a little break from my* Things I Won't Be Buying Today exercise. I'd like you to think it was because I took a break from writing, but I did not. I just started buying everything in sight and couldn't think of a thing to write about not buying.
But now, I am trying to learn, once again, to practice restraint and have something to write about not buying!
It's this.
I'm not buying this.
Just like pre-buzzcut Britney, Oops, Amazon did it again.
I was browsing the big A for a lifting and firming cream that might help the face which I received as a genetic gift from my mother's side of the family.
Back in the old days, my Nana would've referred to fifty year old loose skin as "jowls". Now, in 2023 when we call serious economic hardship "stagflation" and pedophiles "minor attracted persons", I will also singsongingly refer to the unpleasantness that is my falling face as my "bonus chin".
Yay! Bonus chin!
Anyway, as a direct result of my nighttime browsing, chin down on my chest (hmm), neck bent at an angle typically reserved for navel gazing (hmm hmm), bathing in the blue light of the best and worst invention ever (hmm hmm hmm), the big A figured out just what I needed to fix that jacked wattle and started showing me a variety of electric face zappers.
Ack! No thanks. I'd rather wear turtlenecks in July than willingly play shock the monkey with my own epidermis. But when I didn't take that click bait, it began offering me other things.
Terry cloth face lift things.
"Chin Bandage."
What?
Now...I'm trying to understand.
First, the girl in the advertisement is about eighteen. Hey, don't argue with me. I've seen eighteen year olds online this past week and this girl actually looks overdressed compared to them.
"But she's only wearing a skimpy towel and some sort of head squishing device", you say.
"Exactly", I say.
Second, I've only seen a product like this one other time, and that was in the movie "Mommie Dearest". Faye Dunaway, as Joan Crawford, cleansed her face by undergoing a fairly lengthy and kind of psycho skin care routine involving steam and ice cubes (I have to rewatch this to be sure I am getting it right) and some sort of milky cream followed by a tight chin-sculpting head contraption.
Then she proceeded to beat her kid senseless with Bab-O and a hanger, so I'm not sure this chin strap is a great idea.
Would this purchase automatically send an alert to DSS? Maybe it should.
And finally, the pink factor.
It's this sickeningly sweet candied pink color.
Carnation pink.
Beach pedicure pink.
Barbie pink.
Can you picture the product development team sitting around their huge rectangular black granite table in China?
"How do we sell a torture device that makes a lady look like a dead ringer for Jacob Marley's ghost while she's wearing it? Also, there will be no eating, drinking or speaking when it's positioned correctly, but, hell, it might temporarily flatten out the fatty underchins of those ridiculous Americans?"
"Hmm."
Small guy in the back says, "Make it...PINK?"
And there you have it.
Ka-ching!
Add to cart.
#mushroomtumbler
*inspired by John Magee - check out his blog on Blogger, too.
