The weekend had been rather abysmal. Didn’t go to Tokyo. Pretty much hung out at the shopping malls of Takasaki. Takashimaya and HMV must love me by now. Ever since I discovered the foreign magazines section of HMV, its business must be blooming since I buy one almost every week. The Japanese don’t normally buy their magazines, which is odd, because there are huge sections of bookstores dedicated to Japanese magazines alone. They prefer to pick them up, and read them (and it’s not just a 10-second flip-and-go; some of them stay there for ages, reading without buying) and leave. What’s amazing is that the sales clerks do not shoo them off. I can’t imagine doing that at home without the salesperson shooting me dirty looks. Anyway, I believe I’ve gone back to the days when I was a total magazine junkie in the UK. And to think I’ve left those days behind. Hello Cosmo.
Denial. Not a good thing.
So the weekend had pretty much also been a makeup-shopping bonanza. Although I have to say, it WAS rather hellish trying to buy concealer from the salesperson at Estee Lauder, who couldn’t speak a word of English. Still, it was a good experience to see how cosmetics are sold here (department store-type of cosmetics, not the ones sold at drugstores). I was able to take my time and try out EVERY single piece of makeup at the counter, and the salesperson would still be beaming at me. And after I was done, with the back of my palms full of makeup, I was offered tissues AND a hot towel to clean it off. I was also given free samples without my having to ask for one. At home, I’d probably be lucky if I was even offered a tissue.
This place has seriously turned me into such a vain pot. Pre-Japan, I couldn’t even be bothered to slather anything more than moisturiser on my face before I head out. Post-Japan, I cannot imagine leaving the house without the full-on goo. I now have a proper makeup bag, with slots for brushes and stuff, together with my cosmetics. I have pots, tubs, jars and bottles of goo. Tsk tsk tsk.
Hello, I’m Tine (“hello Tine!”). I’m a mag-aholic AND a makeup-aholic.
PS: I’m also a bag-junkie, but let’s leave that for another day.
Denial. Not a good thing.
So the weekend had pretty much also been a makeup-shopping bonanza. Although I have to say, it WAS rather hellish trying to buy concealer from the salesperson at Estee Lauder, who couldn’t speak a word of English. Still, it was a good experience to see how cosmetics are sold here (department store-type of cosmetics, not the ones sold at drugstores). I was able to take my time and try out EVERY single piece of makeup at the counter, and the salesperson would still be beaming at me. And after I was done, with the back of my palms full of makeup, I was offered tissues AND a hot towel to clean it off. I was also given free samples without my having to ask for one. At home, I’d probably be lucky if I was even offered a tissue.
This place has seriously turned me into such a vain pot. Pre-Japan, I couldn’t even be bothered to slather anything more than moisturiser on my face before I head out. Post-Japan, I cannot imagine leaving the house without the full-on goo. I now have a proper makeup bag, with slots for brushes and stuff, together with my cosmetics. I have pots, tubs, jars and bottles of goo. Tsk tsk tsk.
Hello, I’m Tine (“hello Tine!”). I’m a mag-aholic AND a makeup-aholic.
PS: I’m also a bag-junkie, but let’s leave that for another day.
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