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Triathlete Blog

Poetry in Lotion

By November 18, 2009July 20th, 2015No Comments

The other day I bought $68 lotion.

Yes, indeed it was just a few days ago I talked about how I am not into girlie things. Which is true. I’m really not. However, when it comes to lotion:


I have a lotion problem. Such a problem that I’ve blogged about it before. Search the archives. Since then I have developed an even bigger problem. I’ve stepped it up. From Bath & Body Works to Aveda. That’s like saying my first bike was a Huffy and now I ride a Cervelo. There is no comparison. True they are both bikes but….all it takes is one ride, one pump of the lotion to smear across your hands and you know…

That you will never ride a Huffy again.

(growing up I had a pink Huffy with a banana seat)

It was Monday night when I suggested a trip to the mall. If you would like to further search the archives you will also find a blog about the mall, specifically why Chris and I created the Law of the Mall which reads:

Under no circumstances will the husband accompany the wife to the shopping mall because when man and woman arrive at confusion at the shopping mall it may or may not result in a man and woman arguing, perhaps slightly louder than library voice, in the shopping mall about mixed messages and unmet expectations derived from differences in opinion regarding what it means to go shopping (where husband assumes that shopping is general and wife knows that shopping is specific to…herself).

Disobeying the Law of the Mall, Chris agreed to join me at the mall. Of course, we were not going shopping. We were going shopping for…me. And, specifically shopping for $68 lotion.

Hear me out. Did you ever have the one thing that you keep putting off because it’s too fancy, too expensive, too frivolous, too overpriced but something keeps making you feel like you absolutely need this product to have a good life and if you wait one day longer you will keep putting off the life you could have if only you had the __________________(fill in the blank).

For me, it is $68 lotion. From Aveda. In my defense, I did not know it was $68 lotion. I just know it was the lotion that came in the smoky green bottle and smells like an earthy clean mixture of good stuff and pine trees. Reading that it sounds absolutely horrible. But trust me, it smells good. Really good.

And I don’t know why but I really want this lotion. Like for the past 10 years. I first used it up in Minneapolis at one of Chris’ friend’s houses. I assume it was his wife’s lotion. But you never know? The entire bathroom was filled with all sorts of fancy lotions and make up bottles. Is it just me or is there something inviting and enviable about being in another girl’s bathroom and finding it filled with fancy little bottles of good smelliness. It makes me want things, new things and makes me think I don’t have enough things.

And if you let me in your bathroom, be warned: I will touch it, use it, spray it. Also if I don’t like you maybe do questionable things with your toothbrush.

(remind me to tell you the story some time about when Chris accidentally used the “cleaning the bathroom” toothbrush)

Anyhow, in her empire of girlie bottles and lotions this girl had many products from Aveda. I need those things, I thought to myself, they smell so good. Later, I discovered a nearby Aveda store. And then I discovered that everything inside the store carries a price tag over 30 dollars. Is it worth it? They sure make a positive sell, like my face and the entire planet will wither and die if I don’t use it.

Since then I have wanted that lotion. But not the price tag. Sigh. Beauty, perfection and saving the planet can wait. Until lately. What am I waiting for? If I want it why am I depriving myself? Why do women do this? Chris has things, all sorts of frivolous things. Have you seen our basement? We could outfit and entire cycling team with wheels and bikes. And I’m squabbling over lotion?


I didn’t first intend on buying the lotion. I actually fell for the bait with a mailed to me coupon. A sample of Rosemary Mint lotion (which I later found out was Rosemary Mint shower gel, not exactly what I was hoping for when I smeared it all over my hands). I was just going in for my sample. But as I looked around the store I couldn’t resist. There is was the fancy I don’t-need-you-but-really-want-you lotion.

I tried the tester, smelled it and made up my mind. Buy it. No. You want that. No, you don’t need that. If not know then when? You’ve waited this long. How many times are you going to come back here and use the god only knows who else’s hands have been under it tester, hmmph? I don’t know but…

I grabbed a bottle. The big one. For economical reasons. It was $34 for 5 ounces or $68 for 16 ounces.

What would you do?

Before I could change my mind – and good for Aveda for making their store the size of a tin can so you have the least room possible from shelves to register to change your mind and leave the plastic box of sheet cake in the bread aisle because you just decided you didn’t need it after all – I started walking over to the register.

Meanwhile, I noticed Chris sitting in the do my make up now chair. He looked, totally bored. As most men do when shopping. And that sealed the deal. I was buying the lotion and getting him out of here.

It was a mercy mission.

Walking out of the store, Chris asked what I bought.

Lotion. I fell right into that trap.

What kind of lotion?

Lotion that cost a lot of money. Sometimes my mouth is like a freakin’ bear trap.

Now I can only imagine what the man thinks here. Lotion that costs a lot of money. Hmm, he thinks. A bottle of Suave costs about $1.99 so the woman spent 5 bucks on lotion, big deal.

How much money?


I could smell the dumbfoundedness in the air. An earthy mix of burning money and man sweat.

You bought 68 dollar lotion.

(Guilty as charged) – not said but thought.

What the hell does it do for $68?

It smells good.

What does it smell like?

I don’t know…good stuff. Really, it’s hard for me to pinpoint what the good stuff is, it’s just all smoky green bottle good.

The rest of the week, I had to know it was coming to me. Threats, barbs and jokes about the lotion sitting on display on my bathroom counter (best invention ever: separate bathrooms for husband and wife). Know that not every lotion is displayed but you buy a bottle of $68 lotion and it could probably double as a mantlepiece.

Every day Chris walked by it threatening to touch it, to use it, just one pump. Until finally on Saturday the teasing reached a crescendo of ridiculousness when I asked him what he was going to do for the rest of the night after dinner:

I’ve got a date with a porno mag and a $68 bottle of lotion.


It didn’t stop there. He showed me his dry cracking hands that signals the onset of Midwestern winter.

Maybe I can use some of your lotion to fix it.


And then I lost it.

NO! You do NOT use my lotion for your hands. You use your cheap Suave lotion or you go buy yourself some shea butter but DO NOT TOUCH MY $68 LOTION! It is the kind of lotion that you put on when you are done getting ready or before you leave the house or you want your face to smell good. It is NOT working lotion!

All joking stopped. For now. Further mention of my lotion stopped. For now. Any guilt associated with spending $68 on lotion has gone. For now. But I can sense one thing. While it all has stopped now, that bottle of lotion is not safe if left alone in the house with my husband.

So I’m hiding it away. Right next to the $24 hair product. And the toothbrush I use for bathroom cleaning.

(enter sinister laugh)