While she worked for Mary Kay, my mom would always tell these outrageous stories of women going ballistic missiles whenever the company announced it was discontinuing a product. She'd receive droves of angry letters, promising massive boycotts and protests. Some contained thinly-veiled suicide threats. How were they expected to go on without Limited Edition Lip Suede in Mocha Freeze? I always just assumed that A) my mom exaggerated the stories for entertainment value; and B) all Mary Kay ladies were estrogen-starved 50-somethings who looked and acted like Kathy Bates' character in Fried Green Tomatoes.
I'll always remember March 2009 for two things: my wedding and the moment I found out Maybelline was going to discontinue Lash Stylist. Lash Stylist was my holy grail mascara for one reason and one reason only: the comb. It looked unassuming but was pure magic in its ability to separate. That comb could nail down every last eyelash. Top, bottom, vertical, diagonal, in fact, it could give birth to eyelash offspring. No Lashes Left Behind. That's how magic. This was no wimpy bristled wand that forced you to keep applying coat after coat until realizing you'd Tammy Fayed your ocular area into a black tarry clumpfest. This got the job done in one fell swoop. In retrospect I suppose placing a sharp-edged object a millimeter from my eyeballs everyday while driving could have resulted in losing one or both of them. Still, nothing could come between me and my Lash Stylist.
Early on in our relationship, I developed costly Bobbi Brown and MAC habits -- brilliant, considering I was pulling $10 an hour as a PR intern -- but never once did I stray from Lash Stylist. I was almost proud of the fact that while I was happy to drop 3.5 hours' worth of salary for a bronzer, I would never in my life have to pay more than $6 for mascara.
When I heard it was being discontinued, I began to buy two and three at a time. March turned into April and one day she was just gone, her usual spot now occupied by Lash Stiletto. Lash Stiletto. Like the Maybelline executives were all sitting around a conference table and someone said, "Let's name this one something prostitute-y... Lash Slut? No, Lash Stiletto. I like it." Then a few months later, a sighting at a Wal-Mart in Kauai. I bought the last two lonely tubes and called them honeymoon souvenirs.
Almost three years later, my biggest question remains why? Why did you discontinue my trailblazing comb crusader? Why not Full 'N Soft or Volum' Express or another one of their ho-hum cousins whose name also promotes illiteracy? Maybelline should put that on their FAQ.
I still feel a glimmer of childlike hope when I walk by the Maybelline section at Target, because what if? What if the mascara people realized it was all a big mistake? I'll keep clinging to that hope. Because as it turns out, I am a Mary Kay lady.
