Maybelline Turned Me Into A Whore

Maybelline Headquarters

575 5th Ave., 14th Fl., New York, NY

10017-2422, United States
(212) 818-1500

Dear Maybelline,

My name is Jackie Marculescu and I am a 20-year-old woman who enjoys lukewarm bubble baths, watching kids fall in yellow snow, and wearing make-up.

I was recently feeling a little "down in the dumps". It was pretty bad. The Prozac I usually O.D. on wasn't having its effect anymore. I think I may have become immune to it from taking it so often. Since, as previously mentioned, I enjoy wearing make-up amongst many other exhilarating hobbies I decided to buy one of your lip glosses to cheer me up.

I walked into my local Shopper's Drug Mart and ran right over to the make-up section. I immediately knew I wanted something from your company, Maybelline, because I didn't feel like being "Easy, Breezy, Beautiful…Cover Girl". Not if that meant I would turn out looking like Queen Latifah.

I wanted to look more like Sarah Michelle Geller, or "Buffy" as I affectionately remember her. I didn't necessarily want to kick Vampire butt but just attract someone like Freddie Prinze Jr.

I was mulling over which lip-gloss to get (lip-gloss screams "I'm young and fun and flirty", oppose to lip stick which says "I'm old and if I don't already have a husband I need to find one now so I can have babies because my internal clock is ticking away.")

I finally decided to go with the colour "Cherry Drizzle". I thought this was a good choice because it just confirmed my lip-gloss is fun idea with the name of a fruit in the title of the gloss.

I went over to the cashier, paid for the makeup with my Shopper's Optimum points and skipped home.

As soon as I got through my front door I ran to the bathroom, opened up the packaging to my “Cherry Drizzle” lip gloss and slathered it on. It was red, but not too red and had just the right amount of sparkle in it. I immediately felt better! This was a way quicker fix than any meds, legal or illegal, I’ve ever taken. I decided that I wanted to go out with some friends since I was feeling so good. I called up my best friends Janine and Garofalo and we planned to meet at a really classy bar called “The Spread Eagle.”

Once there and wearing my new Maybelline lip gloss and cheetah print mini dress I sashayed past the slew of men at the bar. They were all staring at me and I felt very good about myself. I knew it must be the liquid sexiness on my lips. I then found my friends and sat down next to them. They had a complete look of shock on their faces and I thought they were impressed by my look! Little did I know, I was very wrong.

Janine immediately threw a napkin, emblazed with the “Spread Eagle” logo at me and said, (and I quote) “Remove that whore lipstick off your face.”

I was shocked! Here I thought I looked amazing. I also was angry that Janine thought I was wearing lipstick when I so specifically sought out lip gloss. I asked her what she meant and she told me, “You look like a single mother who just met with their kids’ principle and found out that her son is going to get kicked out of the school and when you tried to seduce the principle with sexual favors he told you that he’s not interested in drag queens.”

Garofalo just nodded in silent amazement.

I told them, “But this is Maybelline! This is the highest quality drug store make-up you can get after Revlon! They had a vampire slayer work for them for goodness’ sake!”

“Well it definitely doesn’t make you look like it’s Maybelline, and more like you’re born with it...with a defect.”

I didn’t want to argue with them, after all I had known Janine and Garofalo for a very long time and trusted their advice.

I then removed the “Cherry Drizzle” lip gloss off my lips and instantly sulked back into my depression.

So Maybelline, I am not asking for a refund for the lip gloss, simply for all the money I will need on meds now due to your less than stellar product.

Sincerely,

Jackie Marculescu

Complaint to the Royal Ontario Musuem

To Whom It May Concern:

My name is Sarah Bertrand, and I'm a fragile yet determined woman with a destiny that involved dinosaurs. Discovering them again, taming them, and one day writing a major motion picture that involves them somehow. Since it's never been done before, I'm working on copy writing a name...so far, I'm thinking, Sarah Bertrand Park. Or, The Jurassic Adventures of Sarah Bertrand. In A Park.
Anyhow, the real reason I'm writing you this letter is to bring your attention to an issue that has been plaguing me for countless, sleepless hours. Last night I decided to combat the monotony of my life, I was going to venture to the Royal Ontario Museum for a magical and educational experience. I was shocked, dismayed, disgusted, appalled, and truly heartbroken at what a lunch bag letdown the experience truly was. I left feeling dejected, melancholy, embarrassed, bamboozled, and defeated, for the Royal Ontario Museum's sub par renovations did not justify the inflated prices. My acquaintance Nadia Umadat and I had a query regarding the current status on the Royal Ontario Museum's Planetarium, and we asked staff at The Royal Ontario Museum and we were laughed at, and I truly feel in the cockles of my heart that we were mocked. We were also told The Planetarium was to be destroyed in the near future because the Royal Ontario Museum could not keep up with the Science Center, so needless to say as a result of that new found information I was left feeling bewildered, discombobulated, distressed, and flustered. I sobbed for hours until I came to the conclusion that this was completely unacceptable, and as a patron to the Royal Ontario Museum for years, I would appreciate if this situation is immediately rectified. I would expect nothing less than a written apology from the esteemed Board of Directors, and compensation for my $11 ticket I purchased last night. If the Royal Ontario Museum has a time machine housed in the basement I'd also appreciate if you could give me back the time I meandered away last night that could have been spent doing other more productive things. Like scavenging for dinosaur remnants, sorting through old stamps, finding new concoctions to use in my sandwich maker, or shuffling down the street, whistling, and listening to my Walk-Man.
I am sure this letter will be received and treated with all the legitimacy and genuine concern of a lady with big dreams and a broken heart. Thank you for your time. I look forward to a response.
Sincerely,

Sarah "The Dinosaur Whisperer, Probably" Bertrand