The other day, I sent an email to a couple of friends who had purchased those pricey silk pillowcases to query whether they are worth the money. Deb wrote back that she loves hers, but she questioned their claims for truly improving hair and skin for seniors and boomers. Ha! Good point. We’re always on the prowl for something cheap and easy that will improve our looks, our psyche, and ultimately, our lives. I still haven’t decided about the pillowcases, but I know that over the years, I’ve wasted the equivalent of the national debt on too many so-called beauty aids that delivered zilch.

Apart from the damage caused by smoking and sun exposure, our genetic makeup is probably a greater determinant in the condition of our skin than any pricey over-the-counter skincare cream or makeup.  When my mother passed away at the age of eighty-five, she had beautiful, wrinkle-free skin after using nothing but Dove soap and Nivea Cream on her face for decades. On the other hand, I invested a small fortune in professional facials and expensive skincare products. I was not blessed with beautiful skin. My skin was probably the best it had ever been in the seventies. Back then, I cleansed with cheap drugstore Nivea Cleansing Milk (no longer available) and moisturized with Avon’s Rich Moisture Cream, infused with toxic yellow dye. Who’s the smart one here? Then, menopause happened, and everything went for the shits. Rosacea, eczema, you name it!

I’ve backed off all of the hyped, expensive products and, I now try to ignore the deceptive marketing by beauty companies. I’m using dermatologist-recommended drugstore products like Cetaphil, Ceravé, and Vanicream. Just once, before I die, I would like to have calm, healthy skin. I don’t feel like that is asking too much, but my face says otherwise. I did weaken and succumb to the sirens’ call and ordered some Ceravé eye cream online in an attempt to repair the area around my eyes, only to learn on YouTube that special eye cream is a waste of money. “Your regular moisturizer is more than adequate for the eye area,” they say. Even at my advanced age with decades of experimenting and lessons learned behind me, I still fall prey to old habits.

The other day, I watched an interesting video by Trinny Woodall of Trinny London fame. Of course, she has her own skincare line, which miraculously I’ve managed to avoid buying, but she did try one beauty trick that I’m seriously contemplating. She had her inner nostrils waxed, and I was very impressed. It’s a problem not restricted to men—thank you again, menopause. Not only are boomer gals trying to eliminate chin hair, and upper lip hair, but it’s now sprouting from our nostrils. We’re losing valuable hair on our heads and growing magnificent crops in a variety of new, unwanted places. Ouch!

Over the years, I’ve gone to great lengths to acquire what I hope will be the ultimate solution to whatever beauty dilemma I’m facing. When Estée Lauder reformulated their Frosted Apricot All-Day Lipstick, which I’d been using for more than fifty years, I was furious. I emailed the company about it, and they ignored me. Not even a form letter. The new version of the lipstick was vastly different from their original goes-with-everything colour, with lovely pink and coral tones and a touch of shine. The “new and improved” version has too much brown, is too dark, and lacks those vital pinkish hints. In no way does it deserve to be labelled “Frosted Apricot”.

I was forced to scour the internet for discontinued lipsticks and managed to source a single tube of the original on eBay, fortunately at a bargain price. I waited two months for it to come all the way from someone in Australia. Even then, it wasn’t the premium version in the gold tube, but encased in the corrugated navy plastic tube that was usually given away free in their promotional gifts. It was probably a decade old, but I’m making it last.

I have an embarrassing inventory of unsuccessful beauty products gathering dust in my bathroom cupboards. Periodically, I do a purge, only to fall prey once again to new snake oil concoctions and empty promises. I’ve stopped making aimless trips to the mall, which has significantly curtailed my purchases of unneeded shoes and other fashion items. I guess I’m going to have to apply the same restraint to my trips to Shoppers Drug Mart, where the first thing that greets me when I enter their stores is rows and shelves of shiny, enticingly seductive skincare and makeup products. The fact that I’m retired and no longer go to an office every day seems to have escaped my sensibility.

I was in my 70s when I bought my first eye cream, and now I own two. I never learn. I still have dark circles and dryness around my eyes, which means I’m now experimenting with concealers, which sadly tend to cake under boomer-aged eyes. Take my advice, ladies. Steer clear of Sephora and any skincare and makeup aisle, or you could end up like me. I know I’m not alone. Just today, after dropping off a prescription at Shoppers’ Drug Mart, I came home with a Clinique chubby cheek colour balm. Apparently, I couldn’t live without it.

I only wish I could take my own advice to keep it simple. You cannot change your genetic makeup with applied makeup, and more expensive does not mean better. Most of it is a waste of money, and if you think I’m exaggerating, check out some of those scary videos on YouTube—but steer clear of the influencers. If it’s on social media, it must be true. Right?