Seeing as how 80% of the entering class at most vet schools is female, I think a sidenote to talk about mascara in a pet blog is OK. And if you’re a guy who likes mascara aka Adam Lambert, that is OK too. We do not judge here.
Vets are many things, but “fashion forward” does not immediately come to mind. Sure there are some of us who are well dressed, but as a vet school entrance requirement, not so much. I would say it was maybe 50/50 in my class as to how many people wore makeup at all. We just didn’t have the time for it, besides which, the pigs could care less how you look in your dumpy coveralls. In the world of large animal medicine and good ole boy farmers, makeup was a weakness.
I wasn’t anti-makeup myself, but I just got out of the habit for a while. A few weeks ago, I was looking in the mirror and thinking to myself, I could use some mascara. So I grabbed a tube of L’Oreal Voluminous, which my sister had told me was the best stuff ever, and swiped some on. (My sister works in a law firm, which is important to note here.)
Here is the key- once you get to work, things can get nuts. There isn’t much time to stop and look in the mirror between rooms sometimes, let alone reapply makeup. Between running around and putting surgery masks on and off and bending and sweating, you can really make a mess of yourself pretty quickly. So come 5 o’clock, when I sneaked off to the bathroom before the final after-work rush, I looked in the mirror for the first time since 8 am and was greeted with a sight of horror- HUGE black smudges under my eyes. I looked like a clown. I asked my staff why no one said anything, and I guess they were too busy to notice either. Clients were either too distracted, or more likely too polite, or even more likely too horrified to say anything.
So I did what any good scientist would do and researched the problem. A ha. I wasn’t choosing a waterproof mascara. What was I thinking? The next day I picked up a tube of L’Oreal Lash Out waterproof. Now we’re cooking. A whole day of sweating and running around and no raccoon eyes. Success.
Friday was my real test, though. One other thing that people in other professions are less likely to come across on a day to day basis is The Conversation. The “I’m sorry, but I think it’s cancer” conversation. Or worse, the “I’m so sorry, but he’s gone” conversation. Or, as what happened on Friday, the “I am so, so sorry the person who hit your pet with their car in front of your eyes didn’t stop. And that you had to see your pet in the condition that person left him in. Despite the thousands you spent at the emergency hospital this week, a terrible thing happened that no one could have predicted and he has bled to death.” This is a real test of your mascara.
If you REALLY want to see how far you can push this product line, have their child ask you if their dog is in heaven with God. Just try to answer that without a little epiphora. I guess maybe some of you could, but I am not made of stone like some of you and that is why I need things like epic mascara.
I am pleased to report that Lash Out is an excellent choice for all your terrible, tearful emotion-ridden days, as well as creating nice volume without clumping. $8 or thereabouts at your local drugstore (what? I’m not an M.D. I can’t afford Dior.) 4 paws up.