There was a time, like super recently, when the first week of the month was filled with anticipation. I’d text my boyfriend on my way home from work: ANY PACKAGES FOR ME TODAY?! On arrival, I’d rip open the door of our building and hungrily scan the mail area for telltale bright pink packaging or anything promisingly box-shaped. This was makeup time, bitches.
When my ipsy or Birchbox did arrive, I’d take a seat on the bed, open the package, and carefully tip out its contents. Typically, I received at least one of the following: mascara, lip product, hair product, fragrance sample, hand or body lotion, tiny nail polish, and maybe a three-color eyeshadow palette or a fancy brush. I’d eagerly pore over the products and the little information card, opening the lotions and perfumes to sample their scents. Most of the time, I liked—even really, really liked—what I got.
So why did I just cancel all of my subscriptions?