Mar
9
I told myself many times I would not blog about M·A·C Cosmetics’ partnership with Sanrio’s Hello Kitty. The line already garnered a ton of attention from media and retail outlets. Also, the collection will most likely be sold out at the time of this post. So, who needs a review on the kawaii Kitty Kat from me?
However, against my own position, here I am. The reason for my little rebellion? The makeup giant’s campaign took on a whole new level of ridiculousness that has gotten under my skin instead of on top of it.
Again, somehow M·A·C successfully imposed their idea of “made up” into another version of their famed androgyny. (This might be an easy transformation to accomplish with previous M·A·C spokespeople like RuPaul, Pamela Anderson, Boy George, and Shirley Manson, but how the art department managed to get their little hands on Hello Kitty–a cartoon no less!–and un-kitty-ify her can only be the work of M·A·C magic!) I’ve always been a bit torn by this cosmetic wizardry, only because I feel it celebrates the other, more than the self, which is what I feel make up should do. (Bring out the best; not bring out the rest.)
In all fairness however, what started out as M·A·C’s polemic and representation of men in makeup, and incredibly stylized women, now nearly seems to be the norm. That is, in embracing one’s own fantasy, outwardly and visually, people have become more like one another, and have also learned, they are like one another. So I will give M·A·C credit on being the revolutionary foundation (not concealer!) in at least how manipulating our appearances externally, society in general, to an extent, has come to accept one another’s actual being, now.
Then explain how such a forward-thinking company managed to approve a recycled concept for their cinematic short promoting the Hello Kitty line? My reaction is not unlike the models’ facial expression screen-captured in the above image. WTF? (As in, What the Feline?) Read more
Nov
24
Meet the Flushers
Filed Under Product Whore | 1 Comment
No woman can deny the allure of packaging when shopping for cosmetics. The makeup mainstays (I’m not talking about Dior Mascara Flash for hair here; oh dear God, no) come in a variety of compacts and boxes, which in some cases, become keepsakes and collectibles. Some women are attracted to the sleek minimalism of NARS eyeshadow palettes. Other women love the lab look of Prescriptives foundations. The all-things-French of T. LeClerc powders. The art nouveau stylings of Lipstick Queen lip sheers. Even the utilitarian chic of Carmex balm.
Me, I tend to love anything that’s bold and graphic. Type and colour. Simple and seductive. Far from gimmick and girly-girl. Just plain glamorous.
The blushes from U.K.-based line, Aura Cosmetics entirely addresses my sense and sensibility. The blushes are contained in black boxes with pink, red, and yellow cherries illustrated as silhouettes. A justified sans-serif font frames the cherry pictorail, top to bottom. A small cutout window displays the colour of the blush, set in a clear-blue compact. (A pool of powder perfection!)
As if to reinforce the graphic minimalism of the packaging, Aura Cosmetic founder Rebbeca Merrifield, has only launched the Line with three blush colours; from top to bottom, Peach Fizz, Pink Apple Blossom, and Cherry Bombe. The blushes are a precise range of pinks complimentary to every skin tone. Exemplary basics evident by the striking package design.
Information about the designer responsible for the branding of Aura Cosmetics can be found on the website in the “Links” Section. It is a must see! (JCCI features the work of graphic designer Jenny Campbell-Colquhoun. A diverse portfolio showcases projects in print where logos are eclipsed by strong photography art direction and whimsical type studies.)
In Canada, a closer look however can be had at Pir Cosmetics–a mainstay for flushed women of every taste–where the Aura range is sold and cosmetic packaging of all kind, is available to behold.
Sep
29
A-von it all.
Filed Under Inside Out | Leave a Comment
On the same day, I learned of two bits of news that were related and un-related all at the same time, leaving me with mixed feelings. One, I learned that Riitta Immonen, one of the founders of Finnish textiles and clothing design, marimekko, had died, in late August. Two, I learned that institutional American door-to-door makeup company, Avon, had partnered up with marimekko to create limited-edition eye shadow and all-over face, fall palettes. The obit was reported in The New York Times; the product PR, tucked in the pages of Lucky. Two publications talking to two sides of my multi-faceted personality. Confusing? Not really, but I couldn’t help but feel bad, guilty, happy and hopeful all at once.
The obit made me sad about life in general. How often do we hear of one’s life until it comes to an end? And how often do we only get the highlights and not the in-betweens, the things that were done before and after the bigger strokes the individual painted? All the scraps and bits that are usually on the cutting room floor of how that person was shaped, was changed and became one’s own aspiration.
But then, how does one find acceptance? Particularly, how could I be appeased by the news of Riitta’s death with a picture of a compact? How can a material good be the closest thing to understanding a human being? And why is there guilt in trying to reach such a creative gesture, a worldly gesture, in coveting a little pressed pigment?
This is silly, isn’t it? And yet I can’t help it. Read more


