Wednesday, February 19, 2014
But, let’s consider one segment of my beauty toolbox: complexion application tools. There’s the Real Techniques Buffing Brush—you know how I feel about this babe (hubba hubba), my fingers, and, then the Beautyblender.
I could have written through my whole beauty blogger career without desires of this pink, teardrop-shaped sponge and I can’t apprehend from saying that it sits a little unloved amongst the ranks. But, after a year’s contemplation, I’m here to offer my thoughts.
I think I’ve already addressed the fact that I’m a Buffing Brush obsessive, but, assigning the first group of potential Beautyblender lovers, anyone who doesn’t share the love with the buffing would probably love this sponge.
It’s kind of travel-friendly, condensing into a small animal when dry; a run under the tap turns this thing into a rather massive piece.
Its damp nature feels strange (for lack of a better word), but refreshing—especially when puffy eye fever bites.
With stippling motions required, it also delivers heavier coverage, mending pigment to skin rather than distributing it evenly like the other two tools. Yet, despite how scary it may sound, it also does impart a skin-like finish sans fret.
But such rocking motions also requires more time; without careful and thorough means, your base isn’t going to look as blended as Beautyblender potential.
Another hitch: the aesthetic. Its perfectly pink mold gets vandalized with first use, leaving foundation marks and various other imperfections. With daily washing, most pigmentation can be alleviated, but not satisfying for my pristine loving ways.
On another note, this sponge is mighty pricy, especially for its recommended three to four months use (I’ve had mine longer…shhh). But, unfortunately, I can’t help but think that it’s a little unhygienic, too.
Alas, these are my thoughts on the Beautyblender. It’s a rather complicated composition, but—hey—I’m just sharing some minimalist behavior, and, not to mention, Buffing Brush love. Sorry, pink sponge.