I remember my grandpappy sittin' me down during my tender ages and showing me his grooming kit. It was a manly kit, complete with the usual M-ANLY gear: a bottle of Old Spice deodorant, the Vitalis for the hair hold, and the coup-des-gras: a bottle of stinky "Eau De Idunno What." Back in the day a M-ANLY M-AN worked the Grecian Formula through his hair and then followed it up with the Alberto V05 or the Vitalis... unless you were Kojak ("Who loves you baby?!). A M-ANLY man also went to get the hair cut, not "styled." There were Playboys and Sports Illustrated mags for the M-ANLY MAN to think out Hugh Heffner like or Agony of Defeat M-ANLY thoughts as a M-ANLY barber cut a mean M-ANLY head of hair (insert record scratch). If you were a M-ANLY M-AN, a real Steve Austin, the Marlborough MON, you used Skin Bracer or doused your palms with Aqua Velva before slappin' the shit out of your face with previously mentioned palms. I loved me grandpaps so I won't dis his grooming process any further. Instead I'm here to offer up a new type of man: THE SEPHORA MAN. (Oh the Fab Five would be so proud).
I was first introduced to Sephora by my sis, Hango, who two years ago said, "Let's stop by Sephora and get you some real cologne." After some mulling about row upon row of sleek, variously designed bottles, she picked one up and said, "Dahling, this is for you." That bottle of Gucci Envy changed my life.
Recently I was feeling a little low at work. My friend Bstar and I were having that "What are you doing for lunch?" convo. She busted out the, "I'm going to Sephora to pick up some things for me and my boy." I replied without thinking, "That sounds cool." Before I knew it, we were driving to the Stanford Mall, zipping past cars on the uno-zed-uno. We got there and separated-"divide and conquer" without any need to divide or conquer. I quickly went through 500 Sephora paper testers. I tried the Gucci, the Pucci, the Susan Lucci... If it was from France or Italy....and there's a lot of that there.. I wiffed it ALL. Several kind Sephora sales persons, dressed in the same uniform black, with the "down-to-business," no nonsense, Robert Palmer "Addicted to Love" video coldness, came over to help. One of them guided me to several new "scents" which turned out to be STINKS, but hey that's part of the ride too. I settled on some Anthony face scrub, whose use description rivaled that of instructions for setting up an HDTV system complete with surround sound. Then I was armed with about ten pounds of free samples, the rational being that Sephora wants to make sure you like a product before purchasing. Apparently a lot of M-ANLY MEN use the product once and try to return it: "THE CUSTOMER IS ALWAYS RIGHT blabity blabity blah!" I walked out a happy camper, regardless of the fuss. Turns out the recommended products were great. A Sephora lunch cures all that ills.... most of the time.
4 duckets for letting me have my Metro moment. read more