Most of us indulge our makeup addiction at Sephora and Ulta, but when you’re super-rich, you shop at Cos Bar. Cos Bar is all about an “elevated” beauty shopping experience. The stores promise the ultimate in elegance — the chicest stores, the best luxury products, all perfectly curated for the most discerning beauty shopper. Simply put, it’s Sephora for rich people. There just so happens to be a Cos Bar near-ish my office. So I decided to go there, and see what “elevated” beauty shopping really looked like. Obviously this is all 100% baloney, as stores are meant to be shopped in. These perceptions of exclusivity only make luxury stores seem MORE desirable, whether or not they deserve that reputation. Anyway, when I’m feeling like I don’t “deserve” to be in “exclusive” spaces, I wear my Proenza Schouler bag. It’s like armor, and is the perfect way to show my impostor syndrome who TF it’s dealing with. It was a very Rich Lady experience. On the other, that is a $600 jar of goo. I fully understand that prices are relative, and budgets are individual. I can’t personally imagine a financial future for myself where La Mer is considered “not expensive,” and a teeny jar of $600 cream in a crystal paperweight is “after-bath skin care,” but if you can, cool! Because while they’re extremely knowledgable about skin care, nobody in this store was psychic — so if you don’t like stick foundations or heavy moisturizing oils, it’s OK to be polite and say so. People who work retail and who are good at their jobs are also really good listeners. I definitely felt listened to, appreciated, and cared for when I visited Cos. Pictured above is the entirety of the Giorgio Armani foundation ranged carried at Cos Bar. That is 26 shades of beige, with two red-toned “dark” shades thrown in at the end. This reflects what I saw across the store: row after row of expensive foundations that didn’t include shades darker than a paper bag. Not very inclusive, is it? No. Nobody should accept that. Billion-dollar brands are fully capable of making, stocking, marketing, and selling makeup for dark skin. If a brand doesn’t do that, that’s a choice. And if a store carries perhaps four foundations darker than a brown paper bag, that’s a choice, too. Those corporate choices have real, perceptible effects on people. If you walk into a store and out of 2,500 available foundations, there are zero that match your skin tone, that’s like a neon sign that says “DARK SKIN NOT WANTED.” It keeps many people of color out of “exclusive” spaces, and away from certain luxury makeup brands. Cos Bar carries Cle de Peau in store, and I needed a tube — only to realize they only had brown in stock. You know I’m not here for anything other than lashes as black as my heart. So I took advantage of Cos Bar’s mailing service. They place the order for you in the store, you pay there, then they mail you the product you’ve ordered. It’s like having someone shop online on your behalf, which I quite liked! It was much easier than me going home, going to the Cos Bar website, putting the mascara in my cart, then closing the tab because the concept of $50 mascara is SO aggressive. I’m also now part of Cos Bar’s rewards system, so I’ll be back to buy more rich bitch stuff soon, probably. I learned that — shockingly — the difference between a normal shopping experience and an exceptional one is the customer service. Cos Bar’s staff, particularly Dustin, made me feel as cared about and respected as if I were a regular who’d been shopping there for years. Cos Bar also made me feel very welcome, even though I’m not a belle epoque-era railway baron with scads of money. But if Cos want to make everyone feel as special as I was made to feel, the powers that be might want to look at the brands carried in stores and online. The failings of the beauty industry aren’t on Cos alone by any means, but diversity and inclusion aren’t just a trend. No time for 50 shades of beige in 2018.
