The murky waters of Barney's beauty floor: Take heed

Good morning, Tuesday. It's ridiculously beautiful outside, and I hope to take K for a nice long walk today in between editing a deck and finishing a proposal. LIfe is all about balance, mainly when it's perfect outside.

So last week I went to see the Camp show at the Met with a friend, and it was just lovely. The theme is a bit mamby pamby, but that's ok. I loved all the frou-frou and felt it was a nice break from the endless news cycle and craziness. Pure fun in the form of pink tulle. I'll take it.

And after the show, we enjoyed a cocktail on the Met rooftop (such a lovely experience, highly recommend), and then walked on Madison to window shop and people watch. We inevitably ended up at Barney's, which felt a bit like Filene's Basement. It seemed as if everything was on sale, and it's just about a week or so past Memorial Day. Crazy.

But despite the bargain basement vibe, the air of desperation was nowhere more apparent than at the beauty counters. I'm not sure if you've ever shopped for makeup or skin care at Barney's, but it's intense.  On the one hand, the woman at the Chanel counter pretty much ignored us as we searched for seasonal eyeshadow, but everyone else in the area honed in on us as if we were fresh meat. And the sharks seemed very, very hungry.

One woman came up to me to fixate on a crystal necklace I was wearing. Like, literally got in my face to inquire about its powers and then pitch me on some lipstick. And then the gentleman operating the MDNA skincare counter (Madonna's line) seemed to think it was perfectly ok to slather my hand with some sort of black goo that took "just over five minutes to dry." Who wants to engage in banter with a stranger trying to sell you insanely expensive stuff for five minutes? Not me. I will say the way he removed the mask/goo was cool- some sort of vacuum tool that sucked it all up yet somehow left a layer of serum that did make my hand look nice. I didn't purchase any of Madge's skincare. Her face scares me beyond belief. 

And though we almost made it out of there with our credit card balances intact, I happened to walk over to the YSL counter, and then's when the circling sharks came in for the kill. I admire the hustle as much as the next victim, but there's hustle and then there's harassment. My experience was a bit of the latter. 

Out of nowhere came a woman who told me my skin was very much in need of tightening and lifting. Listen up. I know a few things. I know my good points and bad points. And one of my very good points is my skin. It's nice. It's not saggy. It's something I'm lucky to have inherited from my mother. So when this Jaws in red lipstick and a lousy wig started slathering creams on me, I felt violated. And age shamed. And yes, the serum she put on me felt nice and looked nice. But for 350 dollars, I was not taking the bait. No way.

And as lipstick shark was slathering and shaming, the more chill shark at the YSL counter was putting concealer on me, and then finally, the new tinted moisturizer I came to see in the first place, first spotted on a pal at a photoshoot. I don't know if it was the serum that was so pretty or if the moisturizer was a hit, but my skin looked fresh. So I purchased the moisturizer, and then also purchased the two Armani eye products he recommended, which I love. Links here and here. That corrector is magic.  Oh, and I even got this primer. It's beautiful and fits the profile when it comes to getting after that glow, yo.  

So if you ever go to the beauty floor of Barney's, my suggestion is to look straight ahead and don't make eye contact. Once you do, game over. If you don't want to be bothered, that is. It's like they can smell a bit of insecurity, the need for something new, or the whiff of someone who may be on the market for one thing, but will end up seduced by product overload and walk out with more than they bargained for.

Cause that's what' up this beautiful Tuesday in the 718. Yours, in swimming with sharks and expensive adventures. XO