Before I start this post, I would like to show you my favorite painting, “The Break Up” by Artist Peter O’Neill.  I’ve met the artist, Peter O’Neill, in his gallery in Charleston, South Carolina last year.  I first saw this painting, years before, in his gallery in St. Augustine Florida, and it moved me beyond words.  When I met Peter O’Neill, I was again, without words.  His work is stunning.  I always think I have a gallery I like best.  One moment I’ll think, New York!  I love his New York Gallery the most.  Then I’ll return to Relationships, where the painting above resides, always reminding me of my 20’s.  But then I’ll look at Beach Scenes and Dancers and think of my girls, and I fall in love with those galleries with a different appreciation for the depth of Peter O’Neill’s work.  I thought I had my list of favorites, and then I saw “You Gotta Start Somewhere”. Tears came to my eyes.  There stands my precious Sara.  My painter.  My tiny 4 year old always with a touch of paint on her somewhere, having finished a painting, and asking again to paint.  Beautiful work…I hate to leave it, but onto the post which unfortunately has nothing to do with art and/or painting, but has everything to do with a serious break up:

“Prelude to a Date” by Artist Peter O’Neill…this painting always reminds me of the year I dated Greg before we married.  Such sweet memories.

I’m fascinated by marketing, and more specifically, branding.  I had no interest in majoring in business ANYTHING in college, but I love watching the psychology of branding come to life.  You’ve heard me mention that I don’t shop at Target because I’m far too weak to resist their brand.  Any store that can take your plan to “run in” and purchase eggs and elevate it to a new hairbrush, a present for your niece, pj’s for the kids, and summer wedge heels on clearance…I say Kings to the Master.  Oh hell, did I remember to get eggs?!  I am no match for Target.

As Americans who bath in branding, eat it for breakfast, drive to work in it, and spend our days surrounded by it’s sweet and sexy smell…we become LOYAL to our brands.  We almost marry them, if you will.  But occasionally, and quite sadly, we must part with a brand.  It’s hard.  We resist it.  We even argue with ourselves as to why we shouldn’t…why the brand still works for us, even when we know the relationship is a bad fit.  Allow me to illustrate:

ANN TAYLOR.  It’s not a store.  To many of us, Ann Taylor was a dear friend.  A pal who helped us transition from awkward college flannel to big girl career panties.  We trusted Ann.  Ann made us look classy and understated, yet fashionable at the same time.  We paid Ann, don’t get me wrong.  Oh we paid that sista’ in BENNIES, let me tell you.  And then one summer, the button popped off my new white pants, right after I purchased them.  I exchanged them.  The seam ripped.  I exchanged them again.  My new shorts shrunk and faded mercilessly in the wash, even on cold.  Hmm.  My new earrings broke.  WHAT?  So I wrote Ann a letter.  I emailed Ann after I got no reply.  I wrote a more urgent letter.  Still…nothing.  And I realized Ann had left our relationship.  It wasn’t Ann who had changed so drastically…it was I.  I was no longer Ann Taylor’s demographic.  Ann had left me for much younger women.  Women who didn’t expect $140 pants to last a decade.  Women who had no qualms about dropping $45 on a trendy necklace, only to have the clasp fall off in less than a year.  Women who lack the commitment that let’s say, a woman in her mid-30’s might have.  Many of us feel hurt and betrayed by Ann, but it’s not because she left us, as much as it is that we have no place to go.  We’re too young for Coldwater Creek, and Holy Crap Batman, I just don’t know who Banana is marketing to these days.  Apparently the generation behind me is filled with 6 feet tall women who weigh 98 pounds. Unless of course you are a Size 8 or above, in which you case you weigh over 200 lbs and have no boobies.  When I shop these days, I wear anything from a size 4 to a size 10, depending on the store.  I’m not frustrated when I try on jeans these days, as much as I am CONFUSED.

This week I had another break up.  One of such magnitude that many women don’t like to discuss such things, even in confidence.  But I’m going to put it out there: I broke up with my MAKE-UP.  I said it.  Now I’ll say it so loudly that you’ll cringe:  I BROKE UP WITH MAC.  MAC!  MMMMAAAAACCCCC.  Some of you are shuddering.  Some of you are wondering how I stayed so long in a relationship I outgrew many years ago.  I broke away slowly.  I secretly started dating my back-up Make-Up for the non-essentials…cover up, mascara.  I know it’s technically cheating, but we all do it.  We don’t want to drive the extra 10 miles to the MAC counter and wait in line for 45 minutes to buy a 2 cm tube of eye base, so we do what all women do: we go to Clinique.  It’s safe.  It’s trustworthy.  It’s not going to steal us away from our true love.  It’s our rebound relationship.  Clinique is OK with us using them.  When the time comes, we’ll leave again, only to return when MAC refuses to create a mascara that isn’t as thick as molasses and runs like a river down our face on hot July days.  Clinique KNOWS they are America’s fall back brand, and they are OK with that niche.  We tell Clinique,  “I’m using you for Make-Up, and nothing more.  Our relationship can’t go beyond this.  But you are steady and consistent.  I’ll want my 15 year old to wear you someday because I can trust that you won’t be flashy or wild, but as for me, I’m just not ready to make a serious commitment.”

I waited until I was OUT of make up.  Out of the main bottle.  Out of the samples.  Out of any bits I could scrape off of my overpriced MAC brushes and sponges.  And Friday night, I did it.  I had a blind date with Sephora.  Many of you are wondering why I’ve avoided Sephora for so long.  It’s so…AVAILABLE.  It’s almost too available.  I’m believe in Make-Up monogamy, so I can’t take the first duo-pack eyeshadow that comes along. I have to think about a move before I make the leap.

At MAC, you have to wait an hour just to get anyone’s attention; I used to be attracted to how they play hard to get.  But I’ve changed and now I want Make-Up I can buy without needing to look like Scarlet Johansen in order to get assistance at the lipstick display.  I want my Make-Up to stay with me until the last SNL skit has aired and to still look somewhat presentable after that 2nd (or 3rd…no judgments) glass of wine.  But in all seriousness, I wasn’t ready to succumb to the Estee Lauder counter.  Can you still buy Estee Lauder?  I’m not OLD for heaven’s sakes.  I’m not even middle-aged.  I’m in No-Woman’s land, apparently.  I don’t know why the Marketers can’t find us, but if you are in your mid to late 30’s, you are apparently unbrandable.  When Tab Cola went off the market, women in their 30’s everywhere disappeared from the advertisers table.  Unless of course you want to buy a mini-van, in which case, they have your number, mailing address, email…

Our blind date went very well.  When I got home, I had second thoughts.  I bought a lot of Make-Up.  I hoped I didn’t look like I was trying too hard.  I had never considered putting green foundation primer on my face, but after I tried, I was smitten.  I spent what I would have spent at MAC, but I got POINTS which lead to free lipstick ALREADY.  Free lipstick ladies, what more do you need to know?  I had to collect 8 containers to get free lipstick at MAC; our relationship has become so one-sided these past few years.  The women who worked at Sephora were A) extraordinarily knowledgeable and helpful, and B) Not 19 years old, and  C) No one tried to convince me I should be wearing burgundy glitter eyeliner.  I was a bit dizzy at the sheer multitude and variety of products, but Sara and Kelly were in Disney.  I walked out with new foundation, and they walked out with faces covered in blush and lipstick.

Sephora, it’s been lovely getting to know you.  I hope this is the beginning of a long and healthy relationship.  Or at least until I’ve used up my points.  Does anyone know if they have coupons?!  Wait, don’t tell me.  I don’t want them to know I’m overly interested.  Let’s see if they mail me coupons, but for heaven’s sakes, don’t let them know I asked about them.  I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a moment to break up with the Clinique Counter at Macy’s.  Again.