In my attempts to get up to speed with the CVS frequent-buyer program, I tried some new products. The one the CVS shopping experts (now dubbed CVSavvies) seemed to be the most excited about was the
L'Oreal Age Perfect Pro-Calcium Radiance Perfector Sheer Tint Moisturizer.
OK, I admit it. I cut and pasted the above from drugstore.com. And when I saw how huge it turned out, I decided to keep it that way. It illustrates so perfectly that, just as they pack their products with age-fighting, skin-brightening, mega-beautifying ingredients, cosmetics companies pack the names of their products with the kind of high-flown rhetoric that I expect to hear coming out of the mouths of First Lord and Second Lord at the beginning of a Shakespeare play. You know what I mean: "My lord, the king our liege blah blah blah blah'd."
You know? But soft, for the review begins:
It was on sale for $15.99, down from its regular retail price of $20.00, (and 18.99 at drugstore.com) and it came with $15.99 in ExtraBucks rebates, meaning that after you bought it, you'd get a register coupon for $15.99. Which means it wasn't going to cost me anything to try it.
So this morning after my shower, I was all excited about the chance to try my new L'Oreal moisturizer.
From what the box said, I expected a tinted moisturizer--something like my Estee Lauder DayWear Plus, which I love and use daily--but with more of the stuff that middle-aged ladies like. You know the drill. Five or six extra-speshul exotic-sounding ingredients that promised to make me look as young as I was when I started reading the fine print on the back of the package. I expected light diffusers, lots of hydration, humectants, anti-oxidants, SPF, eye of newt, throat of turkey, and a soft, dewy finish.
It's not moisturizing enough for the "mature, dull" it's supposedly aimed at. With an SPF of only 12, it doesn't have nearly enough sunscreen. Even though it comes in "Light" and "Medium" and promises to transform itself, a la Tangee lipstick (or a mood ring) to match your complexion, the Light shade that I tried wasn't light enough to lesson my under-eye circles or lighten the pinkish-mauve shade my eyelids have developed.
Also, the self-blending color?
Flash back to your first-generation Q-T self-tanning nightmares.
OK, maybe there's some Vitamin C or other wondrous ingredients lurking around in there ... but if I'm going to end up looking like an Oompah-Loompah? Forget it.