Makeup Snob©

I'm what you might call a closet makeup snob. I say closet because to look at me you'd never guess I was a snob concerning anything. I have frequent fashion disasters. Wrinkles seem to follow my clothes around. My hair has been allergic to keeping any style longer than two days since I was twelve.

And yet just last week my husband found me holed up in our garage. I was clutching a beauty magazine and skimming through it with a large flashlight.

"I might regret asking, but what exactly are you doing?" he asked.

"I snuck away for eight minutes of 'me' time," I said. My bangs fell into my eyes and one stray curl stood on end.

"Does 'me' time include plans for tonight's dinner?"

"No. But ask me why La Mer's lip balm is next on my list to buy."

"Is it flavored with almond?" If nothing, my husband knows how to stay on point.

"It doesn't say so."

"Then I think I've lost interest."

Several times a year I make my way, along with the money I've been hoarding, to a fancy department store makeup counter. I bring old tubes that need replacing, empty eye shadow containers, sticks that are down to the nub, and the clippings of products that I'm desperate to own and find a salesgirl to make my dream a reality.

Once home I tuck the new glosses and lipsticks into a special black carrying case used just for them, integrate the new products into my weary yet functional makeup bag, and put the Dior shadows well out of reach of my toddler. Don't ask me how I know, but that child takes special pleasure in using her finger to "mix the colors into a rainbow."

If all of this sounds vaguely familiar then you, too, might be a makeup snob. Here are other telltale signs:

1) You've collapsed into the nearest makeup chair when the salesgirl informed you they weren't making "that shade" anymore.

2) You think the phrase "Wear clean underwear in case of a car accident" is dated, and would replace it with, "In case of a car accident, don't let me be caught without Chanel."

3) You consider it a defining life moment the day you were made aware of the fact that beauty products existed outside of drugstores. (1985; the daughter of one of my mom's friends showed me how to use Clinique's 3-Step Skin Care System. That woman was a goddess.)

4) You could not imagine how you would go on living if InStyle magazine stopped publishing the annual "Best Beauty Buys" list.

5) You secretly believe that any problem can be fixed by stopping by Sephora or the nearest Nordstrom makeup counter.

6) The details might be getting fuzzy on some of the important numbers in your life (like exact age, weight, or any previous addresses), but you have permanently etched in your mind the shade number of a treasured and expensive makeup product (Dior's Moisturizing Concealer #410) and could remember it even during extreme emotional duress (Dairy Queen runs out of chocolate ice cream your one treat day of the week.)

If all of this sounds a tad sallow, I agree. But don't worry; I'm sure they make the right cream blush for that.