Beauty Review: Keys Soap Solar Rx Therapeutic Sunblock

There’s nothing beautiful about sunburn. And, let’s face it: When Midwestern college sophomores with bad dye jobs, Pink sweatpants, and fake Uggs sport a perfectly even, russet-brown fake-bake in the middle of winter, sun-bronzed flesh has lost its capacity to signify its owner’s membership in the leisure class. A tan no longer says, “I came in second in the club regatta.” Rather, it says, “I have a frequent-visitor punch-card at Tanfastic.”

Thank heavens for sunscreen. Given that I slather the stuff on year ’round, I was alarmed to read the Environmental Working Group’s report denouncing most bestselling sunscreens as basically worthless or potentially harmful (you can check out the EWG sunscreen database here). There has been some backlash from the manufacturers of these sunscreens, but I tend to believe a not-for-profit organization committed to using “the power of public information to protect public health and the environment” more than I believe cosmetic industry spokespeople.

So, I recently traded in my Aveeno sunscreen for Keys Soap Solar Rx Therapeutic Sunblock, the top-rated sunscreen analyzed by the EWG. It’s a physical sunscreen, rather than a chemical sunscreen. Its active ingredient does not deteriorate when exposed to sun, and, unlike a shocking number of sunscreens, it blocks not just UVB rays, but also UVA rays. The second ingredient—after zinc oxide—is shea butter, so it’s moisturizing, but it’s not at all greasy. I like the subtle herbal smell, too. And it’s vegan, if you care about that sort of thing.

Ted, Frances, and I have all been using Solar Rx for a couple of weeks now. It seems to be working, in that our skin does not appear to be either tanned or burned, and we’ve been out in the sun a lot. Frances and I both have sensitive skin, but neither one of us has had an adverse reaction to this product. You can read more about Solar RX here, and it’s available through Amazon, too.

Barely There Lip Color

Perfect red lipstick will always have a special place in my heart, but I have recently developed a fondness for the nude look. It’s especially nice with dramatic eye makeup, as it keeps the look from being overdone.

When it comes to understated color, Bobbi Brown is your girl. I have her awesome lip gloss in several shades. Brown is a rich, light earthtone. Buff is similar, but with a little bit of rose. Petal is a pretty, pretty pink. All these glosses have a nice sheen, a pleasant feel, and surprising staying-power for a gloss.

If you’re looking for a little bit of sparkle, try Stila’s always-lovely Lip Glaze in Apricot. The color is a very sheer and subtle and laced with superfine silver glitter. The scent is nicely fruity. I enjoyed wearing this gloss in the summer, but it’s versatile enough to have found a place in my cool-weather kit.

Lancôme’s Juicy Tube in Simmer was another summertime purchase that I have yet to put away. It’s a glamorous bronze with a sparkly pink punch. It’s as warm as its name suggests.

For everyday, wintertime wear, I recommend Neutrogena Moisture Shine Tinted Lip Balm in Fresh. It’s a pale beige with a bit of glimmer. It’s also very emollient, so I’m thinking it will provide excellent protection when the cold winds start to blow.

“Cosmetic Chemistry: A Brief Historical Survey”

BLOGGER’S NOTE It’s finals week at CMU, and I am busy studying for exams and working on my James Joyce term paper. While I am thus occupied, I leave you with excerpts from my education. Today’s offering is a passage from my Chem 101 project.

Elizabethan England

Egyptians were not unique in using lead as a cosmetic ingredient. Ancient Greek women used lead-based face paints, and similar products were used to create the lustrous white complexion seen in portraits from 16th-century England. It’s not altogether clear what the chemical compositions of these cosmetics were, but powdered cerussite (lead carbonate, PbCO₃) is one suggestion—certainly there was a product called "ceruse" in use at this time—while a cream created when lead is reacted with vinegar (impure dilute acetic acid, C₂H₄O₂) has also been proposed. Many Elizabethan pictures also show hair-loss characteristic of lead poisoning. In fact, court ladies were forced to shave their own foreheads to match the queen’s receding hairline, since the monarch set the fashion. This toxic compound also took a toll on the very face it was meant to beautify: ceruse ate pits into the queen’s complexion, and these blemishes inspired her to slather the mixture on even more thickly—which, of course, only made matters worse. The effects of lead poisoning continued to erode the queen’s beauty to the point that stylish ladies had to blacken their teeth as well as shave their foreheads. Ultimately, Elizabeth banned all mirrors from her palaces.

She’s a Total Velma

It seems I struck a nerve with my recent postings on girls who wear glasses. One commentator suggested that we reclaim Velma—the cleverest member of the Scooby gang—and use her name to signify a woman whose beauty and sexiness depend, at least in part, on her awesome intelligence. Thus, we might say, “That Tina Fey is a total Velma.”

I’m all for it. I have always believed that an ample brain is an asset, regardless of one’s gender, and that glasses are just another chance to accessorize. And, while I still put in my contacts when I want to slap on the liquid eyeliner, I must admit that my idea of glamour is, perhaps, slightly out of sync with at least some conceptions of sex appeal. Back when I was single and cruising the personals ads, I discovered that all sorts of guys cited Janeane Garofalo as their ideal woman, and I ended up marrying a man who listed Daria as one of his very favorite ladies. So, Dorothy Parker’s famous dictum aside, female four-eyes should know that Velmas are hot.

I Really Don’t Like This Ad

Even as a toddler watching Scooby-Doo on Saturday mornings I realized that Velma had a terrible hairstyle. This was the early 70s. I had long, flowing hair. My mom had long, flowing hair. Malibu Barbie had long, flowing hair. Marcia Brady had long, flowing hair. Wonder Woman had long, flowing fair. And, of course, Daphne had long, flowing hair. Velma—clearly—was tonsorially impaired.

Thus, I have no problem with Dove sweeping back the heavy bangs and introducing a playful flip. The new ‘do totally lightens up her face. No, what I have a problem with is the removal of Velma’s glasses.

It’s not just because I am, myself, a four-eyes (although I can’t deny that this fact contributes to my sense of pique). Rather, it’s also that glasses have long signified smarts, and this ad seems to suggest that female sexiness can only be attained at the expense of female intellect.

My friend Griffin, who sent me this photo (as you might guess from the graffiti tags, it’s a bus-stop ad, but this image has also appeared on television commercials) pointed out that, not only has Velma removed her glasses, but she’s also closed her eyes, and her hand is no longer making the thoughtful gesture of index-finger-to-chin; instead, it suggests an ecstatic—or vapid—kind of swoon.

I find this all rather bullshit. When I was very little, I identified with Daphne because she was so obviously beautiful in a princessy kind of way. But, as I grew older, I realized that my own gifts were more cerebral—less bluntly aesthetic—I learned to appreciate the smartest member of the Scooby gang. When a boyfriend suggested that he would cast me as Velma in a live-action version of Scooby-Doo (this was years before such a picture would come to pass) I was pleased and flattered.

Dove has launched something called The Campaign for Real Beauty. The ad campaign features big gals and women with freckles, and the website has forums on body image and related issues. This is all cool. But, still: if big gals can keep their curves and redheads can keep their freckles, why can’t Velma keep her glasses.

Stars Without Makeup

I didn’t watch Stars Without Make-up last night, but I did flip to it during the commercials on CSI. As I had suspected when I made my programming decisions for the evening, the Fox show was pretty crap—too much snarky cuteness and too much filler—but I applaud the concept of Stars Without Make-up.

Those of us who consume popular culture inevitably end up with a considerable confusion about the difference between reality and fantasy. For example, we look at a magazine and see a woman who spends hours everyday with a personal trainer, who has been coiffed and maquillaged by a team of professionals, who has been lit with exquisite kindness and who will be painstakingly retouched before her picture hits the newsstands, and we think we’re seeing an image of how women are supposed to look. Then we take a look at ourselves, and the comparison is not always pleasing.

I am—obviously—not the first person to describe this phenomenon, but it bears repeating, and it explains why I appreciate photos of famously beautiful women looking kind of shitty. Yes, there’s an element of schadenfreude to my enjoyment, but, mostly, it’s about that tiny, fleeting moment in which the sight of a pink, puffy, and rumpled Renée Zellweger or Madonna looking “like a worn-out, chainsmoking trailer park mom with a serious meth habit” inspires me to cut myself some slack.

THANKS TO NEWYORKISH FOR THE PHOTO AND VIVID DESCRIPTION.

My Favorite Lip Glosses of 2004: Runway by Smashbox

There are many ways to fall in love. You might, for example, experience the joy of finally finding your dream boy or girl, the precise person for whom you’ve long been searching. Or you might discover the wondrous delight of the surprisingly perfect partner—someone you never knew you needed until you found him, and now you can’t imagine how you ever lived without him.

The first time I tried on Smashbox Lip Gloss in Runway, I felt the latter sensation. This lip gloss completes me. It’s not an everyday kind of thing—it’s certainly more mistress than wife—but, when I do wear it, I have the awesome confidence and je ne sais quois that only a perfect lip color can provide. It’s an unlikely shade—a sort of chocolaty purple, deeper than any gloss has a right to be. It’s kind of punk-rock, kind of silent-movie glamorous, and it is absolutely my favorite lip gloss of 2004—perhaps my favorite lip gloss of all time.

I got it as part of a set, and it looks like Smashbox has discontinued it, but it appears to be available at Nordstrom. Get it while you can, ladies.

My Favorite Lip Glosses of 2004: Lip Shimmer by Burt’s Bees

A few weeks ago, Sarah Hand recommended the magnificent—and magnificently inexpensive—Lip Shimmer from Burt’s Bees. It acquired a permanent place in my makeup bag immediately.

I am crazy about this stuff. Rich with lanolin and cocoa butter, it’s very emollient, and peppermint oil gives it a delicious little tingle. It goes on nice and smooth, and the shimmer is charmingly subtle. I have it in Watermelon, but I’m definitely picking up another shade or two the next time I’m at my local hippie grocery store.

My Favorite Lip Glosses of 2004: Stila VIP Party Lip Glaze Set

I luv a set. It’s just so exciting to get a lot of something, especially when that something is as nice as Stila Lip Glaze. I like Stila because they get grown-up fun just right. Their products have a little pizzazz, but not too much glitter, and they are, in my experience, of excellent quality.

The VIP Party Lip Glaze Set includes just about every shade of gloss a normal woman might need, and enough variety to enchant even those of us who need more—drag queens, beauty pageant constestants, glamorous housewives, beauty addicts, etc. And, each gloss is paired with a similar color, so that you can prepare for a change of cosmetic mood and still travel light. This set contains two of my all-time favorite pinks, Watermelon. It also introduced me to a couple of new favorites: Black Cherry is a rich, deep, dark magenta; and Cinnamon is a lovely warm beige with just a hint of pink shimmer. Stila Lip Glaze is smooth, moisturizing, and long-wearing, and all the shades I mentioned are available by themselves.

My Favorite Lip Glosses of 2004: Smashbox PCH & Malibu Set

I am quite fond of Smashbox lip glosses. They have a nice, smooth, emollient consistency; they come in rich, interesting colors; and they’re long-lasting. That said, the Smashbox PCH & Malibu Lip Gloss Set is really a triumph of packaging as much as content. Three tiny tubes of gloss are nestled in the red-satin lining of a very smart little black-patent case. There’s a mirror on the inside of the lid. Really, it’s just so chic and snappy that it practically demands lip-gloss application at the dinner table or barstool. The colors are nice, too: there’s a delicate beige, a true red, a sparkly sheer.

I got this as a gift for my mom. She likes things that are tiny, and she loves stuff that comes with its own, customized containers. I don’t expect this to be something she uses every day, but I do expect that, on those special occasions when she does, she’ll really enjoy it.