I don’t want to brag (well, actually, I doâ¦) but I was denied alcohol at two separate BWS stores this week. And no, not because I was already too drunk – but rather because none of the cashiers believed I was “over 25”.
* Smuggest smug faces *
It is both a glorious and absolutely rotten thing that is happening. Obviously, as a mother of two who hasn’t worn an ID for over a decade, I’m just overjoyed.
But at the same time – as a mother of two who haven’t worn an ID for over a decade, I really need this wine.
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With the cashier not even at all interested in my generous offer to peek at a photo of me with my crotch goblins in order to PROVE I was “old”, I left the bottle store. without wine.
Happy. Young. But terribly, terribly without wine.
Now, I don’t know about you, but sometimes it is difficult to gauge the effectiveness of a routine or skin care product. I mean, we see our own faces every day.
The improvements in tone, clarity and texture are gradual, subtleâ¦ downright devious, in fact. The way they build up over time as we conveniently forget what we looked like.
And it made me think about how, for the first time in AGES, I had been faithful to the same routine. And that perhaps it was this magical melting pot of products that had been the smoking cannon of this irregular, forced sobriety (v. Temporary)?
As a beauty writer, I’m a bit like a little lab rat. I am regularly sent products that are not even available yet, in small tubes, with âlab sampleâ stickers stuck to the side. I’ll happily put anything on my face so I can write about them.