2-BSide
6B —Thursday, March 8, 2018
b-side
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
I
distinctly
remember
the day Glossier seized me
with their talons. I had been
nonchalantly going through
my popular page on Instagram,
and one post caught my eye.
It was a close-up of a woman
smiling in front of a millennial
pink
background,
but
the
photo was so much more than
that. Her skin was flawless.
Her hair, effortless and messy.
Her eyes and lips completely
free of makeup. And most
importantly, the model was
quite literally glowing. Her
skin had a hue that was shiny
but not in a sweaty way. In fact
it was almost inhuman. To be
frank, the photo was clearly
unrealistic and no one would
know it was selling a beauty
product because the model
was absolutely free of any
trace of makeup. No, Glossier
was
selling
an
aesthetic.
The
brand
had
perfected
minimalism and was roping
innocent millennials into an
endless cycle of unnecessary
packaging,
unrealistic
expectations and unwarranted
expenses.
Founded in 2014 by Emily
Weiss, Glossier is a makeup
and skincare company that
prides itself in its thorough
use of minimalism and overall
aesthetic.
Now, before I get started
on my takedown of Glossier,
I do have a confession. My
laptop is decked out in Glossier
stickers at this moment, and
I may or may not have taken
my pencils out of one of their
infamous pink pouches. I am
one of the millions of people
who has been seduced by this
franchise, and I do not plan
on curing my obsession any
time soon. Does that make
me biased in my criticism?
Absolutely. Nevertheless, that
doesn’t make my arguments
any less valid.
Glossier can be classified
as makeup for people that are
already pretty. Their goal and
slogan are admirable — “Skin
first, makeup second” — in
order to advocate for the use
of
“barely-there”
makeup.
Nevertheless, they are clever
in their advertisements as
their
models
already
have
flawless skin. Yes, Glossier,
many people wish that they
could feel absolutely stunning
without the use of foundation
or some eyeliner. However,
it is not until they purchase
Glossier’s perfecting skin tint
(26 dollars) or the Wowder
(setting powder priced at 22
dollars) that they realize it
provides little to no coverage.
Glossier,
nonetheless,
has
already
won
the
battle.
The
consumer
has
lost
approximately 40 dollars and
CEO Emily Weiss, with her
abnormally radiant skin and
charming smile, is laughing at
them behind the scenes. Even
so, this is not the consumer’s
last encounter with Glossier.
Their stickers are addictive,
the packaging is beautiful and
they heard that Boy Brow is
life-changing, so they must
purchase that as well.
Be that as it may, Glossier
does have some products that
provide some coverage and
serve the purpose of makeup.
Many have fallen victim to their
two products, Boy Brow and
Cloud Paint, which admittedly
are fairly effective. Boy Brow
(16 dollars) is an eyebrow filler,
while Cloud Paint (18 dollars)
is a liquid blush. However, they
are not groundbreaking in the
slightest and absolutely not
worthy of their high prices.
These
two
items
arguably
provide the same quality of
makeup
as
any
drugstore
product and yet buying both
is a hit on one’s bank account.
However, Glossier will attempt
to cover their resemblance
to drug-store products with
their Body Hero campaign
that displays them as more
inclusive than the average
drugstore
brand.
In
this
campaign for a moisturizer
that comes in small packaging
and is so utterly conventional,
Glossier goes berserk with
their
advertisements
that
showcase
women
of
all
different body types and races.
It is absolutely brilliant. In
fact, Weiss almost tricked me
into buying the moisturizer
because I did appreciate the
message they were putting out.
I am nearly convinced she is an
evil genius.
Though I do love the Glossier
packaging, I must admit that
it is a little much. In one of
my purchases of highlighter,
I received a poster, a pack of
stickers, a piece of cardboard
with a sample attached to it,
a pink pouch, a box for the
highlighter and, finally, the
highlighter. This is something
that most people probably
would
not
argue
against.
The more goodies with every
expensive purchase the better.
Nonetheless, it marks Glossier
as completely transparent in
their marketing. At this point,
the fact that they are selling
an aesthetic is so blatant
that it is almost laughable.
Glossier knows that they pull
off millennial pink better than
anyone else, and they are going
to take advantage of that until
their final days.
While I continue to love
Glossier and will forever be
heavily reliant on Boy Brow, I
must admit that the company
is, simply put, bullshit. CVS has
a few very worthy substitutes
such
as
the
Maybelline
Brow Drama Sculpting Brow
Mascara,
the
Cucumber
Cooling Peel-Off Facial Mask,
the Neutrogena Clear Pore
Cleanser, and the Freeman
Facial Charcoal & Black Sugar
Polish Mask. At some point,
millennials need to find the
will to separate themselves
from the adorable stickers we
all know and love and make
CVS our new Glossier, because
frankly, the two are practically
synonymous in quality.
SOPHIA HUGHES
Daily Arts Writer
The utterly absurd genius
of Glossier’s marketing
STYLE
With perfect minimalism, Glossier creates an addictive
aesthetic that is impossible to achieve with its products
Courtesy of Glossier
Revisiting : ‘Sex and the
City’ and its glory days
TV SERIES
“Sex and the City” is wild.
Darren Star’s (“Younger”) HBO
romantic dramedy that ran from
1998-2004 was, and still is, a
cultural phenomenon. It had
a throng of devoted fans (my
mother, a “Miranda,” included),
all putting themselves in the heels
of the show’s four leading ladies.
“Sex and the City” went
through its prime when I was a
baby, and I kept having to remind
myself of this as I streamed it on
Amazon. Its six seasons are filled
with quips and one-liners that
just aren’t OK anymore. Jokes
like bisexuality being a “layover
on the way to Gay Town” and the
constant slut-shaming directed at
Samantha don’t hold up, and they
shouldn’t.
Still, when I sat down to
inhale the series, I found myself
thinking it was open-minded
for its time. Our heroines are
unapologetically themselves, and,
despite the occasional cringe and
frequent “yikes,” I loved every
second of it. Miranda challenged
me, Carrie excited me, Charlotte
pushed me and Samantha kind
of scared me. I rooted for each
of them, through all of their
self-induced
difficulties
and
horrifying blunders.
I knew the show was equal
parts progressive and problematic
before I started watching, but I
wanted to watch it nonetheless.
I couldn’t help but wonder: What
have I been missing?
“Ex and the City,” season
two, episode 18
The end of this episode is
perfect. It’s one of the most perfect
endings in the whole series. Carrie
(Sarah Jessica Parker, “Divorce”)
gets an invite to Big’s (Chris Noth,
“Gone”) engagement brunch, and
watching her open that letter,
curled up on her bed, I felt her
change. I felt her fall deeper in
love with a man who couldn’t give
her what she wanted, and I felt
her clinging to every last ounce
of the faltering faith she had in
him. She doesn’t say anything, but
when the arch of her foot slowly
slides the envelope off the edge of
her duvet, she has a clearer head
than she did five minutes ago.
She’s free by default.
Cut to the last few minutes of
the episode, when season two
closes in the most K-K-K-Katie
way. Our gals are out for drinks,
and they’re angry at Big for
hurting Carrie, hurting the rest
of them in tandem. He’s marrying
a simple girl with straight hair,
and as the women gush over “The
Way We Were,” the show makes
it very, very evident that Carrie is
not a simple girl. None of them are.
They use their Manolo Blahnik’s
to stomp out the “free by default”
narrative to nothing but dust on a
Manhattan sidewalk.
Carrie saunters her way to
Big’s brunch, meeting him in
front of the hotel to brush hair
from his face and finally make
him understand that he never
understood. She reclaims herself,
letting the wind run her curls wild
and release her (for now, at least)
from Big. It’s the most “Carrie”
that Carrie has ever been.
“I Heart NY,” season four,
episode 18
After shutting a small door
on Big and opening a big one for
Aidan (John Corbett, “Still the
King”), season three takes us
through the rise and fall of Carrie’s
flared-jean,
turquoise-ringed
relationship
with
everyone’s
favorite
furniture
craftsman.
Season four is a recovery from
this (a temporary one, of course,
because does Carrie ever fully
recover from anything?). Big
announces he’s moving to the
West Coast, and they dance in
his packed-away living room to
a “Moon River” record that’s
just as broken and cyclic as their
relationship. It’s sweet until it’s
absolutely devastating, and the
rest of the episode follows suit.
Charlotte (Kristin Davis, “Bad
Teacher”) continues to find grace
in the aftermath of a draining
marriage, and Samantha (Kim
Cattrall, “Modus”) realizes she
surrendered her heart to the
wrong man. Miranda (Cynthia
Nixon,
“That’s
Harassment”)
and Steve (David Eigenberg,
“Chicago Fire”) have their baby
boy. It’s a season finale that
highlights the utter complexities
of losing yourself to love and
living through the loss, which,
ultimately, is what I think the
show itself aimed to do: To propel
the independence and resilience
of these four women, as they
fearlessly gave themselves to
whatever, or whoever, their lives
had in store for them.
“The Ick Factor,” season six,
episode 14
This is a very important
episode, and not because Carrie
doesn’t know how to cope with
romance. Yeah, it’s her show,
whatever, but this is the episode
where Miranda and Steve get
married! Did you hear me? Did
I yell loud enough? I’ve always
preferred Miranda’s wheelhouse
of men to Carrie’s revolving door,
and Steve is the beating heart
of this (yes, even movie-Steve,
but I don’t want to get into that
right now). “The Ick Factor” is a
minefield, and their wedding is a
blissful release from it.
Charlotte is happy, and she’s
happy with Harry, and I can’t
tell you how happy that makes
me. Her arc has been littered
with pain, and she needs this.
She deserves this. Carrie comes
to terms with the fact that a
fancy French man wants to woo
her (because apparently, that’s
the kind of thing Carrie needs to
come to terms with). Life is good
for our girls, and then Samantha
finds out she has breast cancer.
She tells Carrie first and
then Charlotte, trying to spare
Miranda the news until her
“special fucking day” is over.
But they’re friends, sisters and
soulmates, and Miranda knows
that something is off. The last
couple minutes of the episode are
spent around a little square table
at the back of Miranda’s wedding
reception. The four women pool
themselves together, filling a
reservoir with strength to give
to
Samantha.
This
moment
is everything, and it captures
so elegantly what the women
of “Sex and the City” were to
one another. They were one,
an irrevocable force of female
friendship, a whirlwind of love.
The show isn’t perfect, and
neither are its heroines. Carrie
really sucks sometimes (a lot of
the time), and I wish Charlotte
was as woke as her internet
alter-ego. But what “Sex and the
City” does, and does well, is show
women supporting each other —
unconditionally,
unabashedly
and unrelentingly. After six
messy seasons (and many now
frighteningly outdated jokes),
the
show
remains
beloved
because of its women and their
ownership over their sexuality.
They found voices in themselves
and laughed over the noise of
people acting like their bodies
weren’t their own to control. It’s
radical in its own, elaborate way,
and it’s so much fun to watch.
Run to it in your favo rite Jimmy
Choo’s — but watch out for the
puddles.
ARYA NAIDU
Senior Arts Editor
The brand
had perfected
minimalism
and was roping
innocent
millennials into
an endless cycle
of unnecessary
packaging,
unrealistic
expectations and
unwarranted
expenses
Courtesy of Glossier
HBO
At this point,
the fact that
they are
selling an
aesthetic is so
blatant that
it is almost
laughable.
Glossier knows
that they pull
off millennial
pink better
than anyone
else, and they
are going to
take advantage
of that
until their
final days