In my last few posts I’ve been threatening to write an ode to pump bottles, so it was only a matter of time.
Beauty products, skincare in particular, come in all sorts of stupid delivery methods. The worst is bottles with droppers, but jars suck (exposing product to air and grubby fingers) and I can even find things to complain about with screw-lid squeeze tubes (let me pop the cap open with one hand, damnit!)
I’ve re-shot this blog post twice and frankly I’ve had enough of being reminded about my depression so now it’s time to just get over it and publish it already. Depression Haul number… three? happened in two installments from Sephora.com, the OG daddy Sephora, the big guy, the real guy. I often browse Sephora when I’m feeling down and/or bored and, as you can imagine, this sometimes turns into buying lots of things. My girls Allison and Tamara from xoVain helped me out by letting me use their addresses to get my things delivered and then they sent the parcels on to me, because Sephora has well and truly plugged all the gaps to stop people from using mail-forwarding services.