Finally! A cure for those prepubescent fine lines and wrinkles!
Hoping to officially crush the innocence of childhood, Wal-Mart has rolled out a line of anti-aging cosmetics geared toward 8- to 12-year-olds.
The “youth preserving” line is called “Geo-Girl” and has 69 products ranging from exfoliators (to scrub off those gross, dead, OLD cells) to lipstick and blush (to achieve that muchÂ sought-after Lolita pout).
It gets better (i.e. worse). The products feature “texting lingo,” to appeal to tech-savvy tweens. Now your 10-year-old niece can sport “GR8” lipshine, and further impede her ability to spell words without digits!
Seriously though, I get it. When I was a kid, I begged my grandma to buy me a kids’ makeup set from Walgreens. And when I ripped open the packaging at home, you know what I found? The pretty, pint-sized products were made entirely of plastic. They were just for applying “imaginary” makeup!
Sure, at the time, I was devastated to find I couldn’t smear pastel blue eyeshadow on my lids (who wouldn’t be?), but it seems pretty obvious to me now: real, usable makeup didn’t exist in the Walgreens toy aisle because it doesn’t belong there!
The last thing girls today need is yet another reason to feel they don’t measure up. And let’s not forget this whole new anxiety-provoking standard Geo-Girl is introducing: eternal prepubescence!
Fifty may be the new 40, but apparently 12 is the new 65.
Besides the pervasive pressure for women to remain in tiny, childlike bodies, they now have to pursue pristine, childlike faces. Seriously?
A Wal-Mart spokesperson told Good Morning America, “(Geo-Girl) was developed in partnership with our customers to give parents a healthier, age-appropriate option for their tween girls who ask about wearing makeup.”
Call me crazy,Â but I don’t really think there should be any makeup option for 8-year-olds, let alone an “age-appropriate” one.
Granted, I’m not a parent, but the day my baby niece demands anti-aging cosmetics, she better at least be old enough to drive herself to Sephora.
For more reasons to get riled up over what’s being sold to young girls today, check out Peggy Orenstein’s new book, Cinderella Ate My Daughter.
— Michelle Konstantinovsky is a student at UC Berkeley’s Graduate School of Journalism and an avid admirer of shiny objects and preteen entertainment. It would be nice if you visited her website: www.michellekmedia.com. Also, she may learn to use Twitter more effectively if you follow her @michelley415.