Whenever everyone’s obsessed with something there are two ways to react; you can join the hoopla and be as vehemently gung ho as the rest of the mob (the more fun option, if you ask me. Few things are as fun as a good communal obsession), or you can antithetically, perversely loathe that which is being obsessed over (an equally valid stance—nothing can measure up to the hyperbole of so many rave reviews, can it?).
People—people in the beauty industry, people not in the beauty industry, bohemian moms, un-bohemian moms, everyone, really—have been obsessed with the Nars Orgasm blush for years—which is really eons in makeup time since a new miracle product hits the market every tenth of a second. I’d never gone so far as to hate it, but I had made a point of not ever trying it.
This past weekend, I had some time to kill before a movie and popped into Blue Mercury in Union Square. After dipping my finger into about 7 different tubs of “Tester” emollients, I made my way over to the Nars counter…and did it. I rubbed a thick layer of pink powder onto my index finger and peered at it—strange that this was what caused such a hubbub—it looked perfectly…pretty, but there were other more brilliant shades of Nars blushes that intrigued me so much more. I patted it onto my cheek, blended it in and was—instantly!—won over. It really does look good on all skin tones (the rave reviews had come from all different shades of people, and I myself am African-American, mediumly dark).
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