Giving my money to a retailer should be easy – right?
And usually, it is.
But not this time.
The scenario was simple:
From whom: Macy’s
What: Clinique moisturizer.
“Clinique,” by the way, is an American manufacturer of skincare, cosmetics, toiletries and fragrances, with a British actress – Emilia Clarke – as their first Global Ambassador.
I guess they couldn’t find any American actresses who could look this silly while touting Clinique products:
I don’t spend much on cosmetics (read: nothing) so I figure it’s OK to indulge myself with a rather pricey moisturizer. One bottle lasts for months, it’s kind to my skin, and now it was time for a new one.
Normally, the process is easy – go online, select my product, proceed to checkout, credit card number in, product on its way.
I did notice an offer on the left-hand side of my screen:
I didn’t want a “Free Gift.” I knew I wouldn’t use it. I’d end up dumping the product and recycling the packaging, so let’s not waste it.
That was my attitude.
Macy’s or Clinique – or both – begged to differ.
When I clicked on the “Proceed to Checkout” button, I got this:
Wait – I can’t complete my purchase without selecting a “Free Gift”?
You’re forcing me to choose a “Free Gift” – or else?
This is crazy.
But I wanted to finish this and do something more interesting, so rather than find some other place to buy it…
I chose their #@!%*#! “Free Gift.”
My order went through, and a few days later the package arrived containing both what I wanted – and didn’t.
Meet my “Free Gift”:
Goop and Glop:
These were much smaller, try-this-and-you’ll-be-hooked sizes.
Let’s start with Goop.
Normally I’d be wildly enthused about anything that suggested I “take the day off.”
But in this case – take the day off from what?
Doing the dishes?
Paying my bills?
Taking out the garbage?
I was suspicious as to how a small jar of goop was going to somehow enable me to do any of that.
Plus, I’m always skeptical of a product that comes with French subtitles.
As though baume démaquillant has some kind of je ne sais quoi that – what?
Justifies its very hefty price tag for the full-size container – $34 for a meager 3.8 ounces?
And what’s with all the lower-case letters? Is this some sort of affectation that’s supposed to catch my eye and make me say, “Oh, look! No upper-case letters! How droll! I must have it!”
And what, exactly, does Goop claim to do?
According to the Clinique website, when applied to my face, this…
“Lightweight makeup remover quickly dissolves tenacious eye and face makeups, sunscreens. Transforms from a solid balm into a silky oil upon application. Cleans thoroughly, rinses off completely. Gently helps remove the stress of pollution so skin looks younger, longer. Non-greasy. Non-drying.”
So…it dissolves, transforms, cleans, rinses off, helps, and removes.
That is one busy jar of Goop!
It’s amazing to think that stuff that looks like this…
Can claim to do all that.
But – put it on my face?
Next: Glop, or “moisture surge 100H auto replenishing hydrator.”
Again, all lower-case letters.
Again, the French subtitle: “soin auto-réhydratant.”
I’m sensing a pattern here.
Especially when it comes to the price:
$56 for an even more meager 2.5 ounces.
Unlike the Goop, Glop is clear, or almost:
This is another product I’m supposed to put on my face, this time for…
“a 174% immediate moisture boost that keeps skin hydrated for 100 hours.”
Interesting claims, though I saw no evidence offered.
This product, once applied to my face, promises to…
Deliver, help, and lock in.
And all I have to do is…
“Use morning and night on clean skin, or use over makeup as a dewy highlighter.”
“Dewy”? I want to look like something that is wet with dew?
Glop is not just for my face!
“More ways to use this multitasker: as a five-minute mask, cuticle treatment, frizz smoother, or dry spot fix for knees and elbows.”
Which frizz and where, I wondered.
And what, exactly, am I treating my cuticles for?
They’ve never treated me to anything.
In case we’re not clear about the primary place to apply Goop and Glop, Clinique provides us with this image of where our face is located:
And Clinique provides us with yet one more suggestion.
It’s the one suggestion I gladly followed with Clinique’s #@!%*#! “Free Gift”: