Gift With Purchase

I'm thinking about make-up today.   My addiction to make-up began with Agnes Bottoms, who was our Avon Lady and my first dealer.

Now you must know that Agnes Bottoms fully lived up to her name.  She was a lovely lady--but when you answered the door to "Ding-dong Avon calling..."  there was short, plump, Agnes, with her tight perm, house dress, white Keds,  and, as far as I could tell, not an ounce of make-up on.  She and my mother would visit for a while, then Agnes would slowly reach down into her bag and pull out what I had so eagerly been waiting for, a small turquoise plastic box containing my make-up crack-- teeny tiny little lipsticks about the size of a bullet.  Removing the top revealed a perfect cylinder of color, one  never to be found in nature, that tapered to a thin precise edge.  Lust.   I lusted after those samples, I wanted Pink Tinge, Copper Rosa, and Candy Pink to be for my lips only

Then came high school and the era of Electric Company Blues and Frosty pinks.  Agnes couldn't compete with Cybil Shepard on the cover of Seventeen.    I had to wait and go "to town" which meant a visit to Wee Discount to acquire  the objects of my desire.   One could spend hours agonizing over two different shades of Cover Girl foundation.  Once you bought it, you had to live with it, no returns allowed.  So I might spend half the year looking like an Ompa Loompa in my orange foundation and the other half looking like I'd just been to the mortician for a make-over.

But then, the magic happened again--I met my own updated version of Agnes--Ms Estee Lauder--the Queen of Gift with Purchase.  I was going to get my fix again!  Only this time this Purveyor of Pretty was sheathed in black, prancing about on 3 inch heels,  a sample of every product on her perfectly made up face.  GWP dealers were not nearly as homey and friendly as Agnes--I usually had to endure a disdainful once-over, a "consultation" which involved striping my face like a tiger to find just the right shade that would transform my imperfections into flawlessness. But at the end, there was the transaction--the sliding of a credit card across the glass counter, a rustle of tissue paper... and then....my very own tiny samples--a lipstick in a shade I would never wear, miniature eye shadows in the latest shade of blue, enough moisturizer to dampen a dimple--but it was all mine, to covet, collect and play with--until I needed my next GWP fix.















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