Tree of Liberty
I usually prefer the word “autumn” to “fall”, but in this case, the word FALL fills the bill with all of the dreadful freak-out implications of gravity having done its inevitable job.
I am not engaging in the freak-out.
The freakout this year involves:
Bare shelves on a global scale.
Those bare shelves include:
Les étagères vides de Macron. The empty shelves of Macron.
The wretched reality sounds so much better in French!
The French company YSL, at least its makeup division, emailed me this morning (which is, in actuality, 29 August) with Early Access for a Special Customer, who has achieved Bronze-Level Status, for this Labor Day Sale.
France has no Labor Day, although I daresay it ought to have one heck of a unionist holiday, given the French bloody penchant over the centuries for labor rights and strikes in France.
This luxury fashion label, founded in 1962 by Monsieur Yves Henri Donat Mathieu-Saint-Laurent, was pleased as Gallic punch to inform me that I — woman that I am — have arrived, in terms of retail-recognition.
In truer terms, the reality-based fact is that whenever a newbie customer (in America, no less!) gets VIP-treated to discounts that start at 20%, and extend to 25% for the big haul, with Free Shipping, and further point-rewards: that business is in big business trouble.
Pandering to put makeup on men just isn’t cutting it, in terms of a lucrative bottom line. Rouge Volupté doesn’t do for the masculine pout what it prevails in creating on the lips of la Femme.
I’ve gotten far better consumer-treatment from Monsieur Peter Philips at Dior Cosmetics where I’ve been a customer for quite a while, going into decades. I quite easily reached Platinum Status sometime last summer (2021), and was rewarded with a free deluxe (truly deluxe, as in luxurious) makeup-brush-set Gift at Christmas. I’ve always been a bit of a Dior-girl, but this exquisite attention has been de trop!
I almost feel sorry for these high-end French retailers who must actually engage in highly competitive, cutthroat commerce among the hoi polloi.
I do not purchase gobs of French cosmetics, but I do select the superb quality items that last a long time, but which always seem to be in short supply and then are gone, gone, gone. At least they’re gone gone gone (disparus disparus disparus) during this past year from the boulevards and boutiques of Paris.
A few months ago, I observed a How-to Video by the fantastic make-up artist, Monsieur Pierre Philips, on the application to a young, dewy-eyed model of the Fall 2022 Makeup Collection.
The eye shadows looked, to me, exactly like the eye shadows circa Summer 2016 and 2017, which I do own and still use, mainly during the warmer months. (Terra cotta shades, in my aesthetic opinion, are more suitable summer-tones than winter-hues, although I did wear bronzer for my autumn wedding!)
Oh, well, the products have been re-formulated, somewhat improved, but definitely thrifty-re-booted for those étagères vides de Macron.
The Velvet Limited Edition palette is gorgeous, but I already own those sumptuous shades. The re-invented finish is new, and nice . . . the finish on my Classic Dior eye shadows are, however, much nicer. In a few years, that Classic Dior formula can be re-formulated, and peddled and promoted as Velvet Classic Dior, Limited Edition!
With Dior cosmetics, it’s all about The Finish. Let’s hope the Velvet finish won’t finish these palettes off!
I’m sure Monsieur Philips has the marketing strategy well under control, and under wraps, as he awaits certain re-formulations of the fiscal reality that currently surrounds him. My Fall 2009 Night Butterfly Palette by Dior, a Great Recession score, soars over any Parisian offering during this ghastly globalist recession.
A new group of young women is now afforded, at top-gouge price, the opportunity to learn the subtle joys of blending 5 shades of Couleurs Couture (methinks “Couture” ought to be plural, Coutures, in agreement with "Couleurs"), albeit it at exorbitant prices, even for Christian Dior.
The smarter and more savvy among those greenhorn gals are also being afforded the chance to learn unforgettable lessons about recessionary shopping — as in, Wait for The Sale! And the Discount Code. The Free Shipping. The inevitable GWP that, this recessionary-time around, is no longer available!
That instructional video by Monsieur Philips was more than a touch amusing to me because of the Black Mask (designer quality no doubt) worn by Pierre. The sweet young model, bien entendu, she certainly could not don the mask for full-face makeup application! The lips alone would have posed more than a superficial problem to the makeup artist in charge of beautification.
Over at the website of YSL, I’ve racked up thousands of points for minimal (SALE) purchases of foundation and lipstick. (Last year, the price of a “lippie” was a fraction of the presently punitive cost of this petroleum-based commodity.) I am due one, or two, or three, of those redundant “free gifts with purchase” that are perpetually all sold out, unavailable, not on the shelf, or étagère, much less within sight of being truck-hauled from a factory to a warehouse somewhere Over There.
The French do not do deprivation well; the Germans do not do privation at all. The Americans, however, appear to thrive on it, after a certain point of becoming sufficiently pissed-off at the pomp-and-fraudulence of the rotten ruling class. We Yanks then start to roustie up a rebellious stance that has served us in good stead since the 1770s.
Founding Father Thomas Jefferson famously, and most accurately, stated an oft-repeated (and oft-misquoted) thought in a letter dated 13 November 1787 to a Trusted Friend. (That Doubting Thomas would never have put any thought into writing that was addressed to an untrustworthy anybody.) That friend was William Stephens Smith, the son-in-law of Founding Father John Adams:
“The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. It’s a natural manure.”
With the cost of real manure, i.e., fertilizer, having sky-rocketed during the past year or so; and with manure, i.e., B.S., having become the major by-product fabricated in this nation by the morons in media and in guvmint, the Tree of Liberty is in dire need of proper refreshment.
No need to panic or freak-out. We Americans nowadays do not go full-bore, full-gore bloody revolution, as was our wont during prior historic insurrections, a custom that was heartily (and profitably) supported by the masters of insurrection, the French. Since politics Over Here has turned into a contact-sport, We New Worlders choose to engage in the retributive bloodbath known as An Election.
I’m waiting for autumn to truly take on the fullest and ripest meanings of “fall”: recession, plunge, nosedive, belly flop, collapse, disaster, defeat, overthrow, collapse, tumble. You get my drift.
As for the elite excellence of Yves Saint-Laurent Beauty, I took the plunge and purchased an item that I’ve been contemplating pulling the trigger on — for almost two decades:
I didn’t like the slathering of the goop on the cheekbones and forehead and chin to create those luminous “glowy” radiant effects. All it looked like to me was shiny greasy skin. This company, however, in its infinite marketing wisdom, has developed a new use for Touche Éclat:
High Cover Radiant Concealer
Erases dark circles and signs of fatigue!
From what I’ve seen of the massively increased costs of concealer, everywhere, the demand must be outpacing supply. There’s a whole lot of concealing going on!