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

