Kids Storm Sephora, Influencers Panic

Normally, I would not write about makeup stores. I do not wear makeup, but Mrs. Brown does, and Sephora is her store of preference. Usually, I try to stay out of the store. There isn't much for men in there, and once I have tested all of the colognes, I can either stand at the door with the rest of the guys feeling bored and out of place or I can leave. There are chairs there, but they are of the salon variety. I am afraid if I sit in one, someone will accost me with a tube of mascara and I will be unable to defend myself. So this Saturday at the mall, I found myself in Sephora with my wife. Once I had tried all of the men's cologne that did not come in a bottle shaped like a robot or a gold bar, I went across the way and got a haircut. At least the Pistons-Bucks game was on, and I could talk about manly topics with my barber. That's right, I went to a barber, not a stylist. I make no apologies.

Alas, nothing lasts forever, and once my haircut was finished, I could either wander the mall like a forlorn refugee from The Villages or head back over to Sephora to see how the battle was going. As it turned out, the battle was far from over, so I dutifully took my post at the door. There was a young man with his girlfriend, who had a look on his face that seemed to indicate that he thought he was bound for one of Dante's circles of Hell. I wanted to let him know that his fate was sealed, but he looked depressed enough already. Don't get me wrong: I have no problem with my wife spending time in Sephora. It is just one of those things we can't do as a couple because, again, I don't wear makeup. I can't stress that enough. 

Aside from the ladies looking for makeup and skincare accessories and men like myself who were resigned to their lot for the moment, there was also another demographic roaming the aisles: girls in their tweens. Sephora ain't cheap, and I know these kids don't have jobs, so chances are the moms and dads are footing the bill for these trips. As a grandfather of little girls and tweens, I found it disconcerting that kids that age were shopping for makeup. Actually, it looked like they were running around the store, causing havoc. So I went out and sat on a bench and listened to a mother trying to calm a screaming baby. It was much more soothing.

I was thinking about that visit this morning as I checked my various news feeds to see what in the world was going to hell today so I could write about it. And in one of my emails, there was a story about tweens taking over Sephora stores. Given my observations on Saturday, I decided to take a look. 

Social media mavens are up in arms over the invasion. The girls generally tend to leave the sample displays a mess, are entitled to the point that they yell at people for buying the products they had been eyeing, and, in some cases, intimidate their parents into buying more products than some small countries can afford. People magazine has the story of one Sephora employee who had a girl of ten years of age who walked up to the counter with approximately $900 in products. Her sister also had a basket with $500 worth of makeup. So, between the two kids, we are looking at  $1400 in Sephora merchandise, not counting whatever their mother planned to buy. 

"I finished scanning all her products and her total came out to almost $900," Herrera said, noting the girl looked a little nervous as she looked over to another register, where another employee was helping her mom and younger sister.

The tween called over her sister, who reveals her own order came out to $500, with Herrera marveling at how the other girl "said that so normal." (sic)

"Her sister says, 'Well, do you have enough?' and she goes, 'No, but I'm probably just going to use Mom's money.' "

Herrera tried to move forward with the transaction when the girl asked her to wait a second. She then called her mom over and told her the total, to which "the mom freaked out."

The two went back and forth when the mom told the little girl to take something out of her basket, to which "the little girl lost her mind."

After the two continued to argue, the girl relented and took an item out, telling her mom, "That's all I'm taking out."

One item was all she was taking out? What the mom should have said is, "What you're taking is your spoiled, disrespectful backside out of this store. Now. And return the empty basket on your way out." 

The influencers may be up in arms over the tween invasion, but the original article put some of the blame at their feet. It seems girls are spending time watching makeup tutorials on social media and have come to covet high-priced cosmetics. That does not mean that their parents are under any mandate to buy this stuff, but as you can see from the episode above, at least one parent did. 

On the surface, this story is about parents who cannot parent and who allow social platforms to take their place raising their kids. And it is also about an up-and-coming generation of conspicuous consumers who want what they want when they want it. But on a more sinister level, these girls are leaving their childhoods behind to embrace the affectations of mature women. Unfortunately, it dovetails with the move in recent years to sexualize children as early as possible and turn them into miniature adults. Childhood is no longer something to be savored and protected. It is a thing to be gotten through. Parents need to be parents and keep a tight leash on smartphones and tablets. And they do not need to panic just because their child throws a tantrum in a makeup store. The influencers may gripe about the preponderance of tweens in makeup stores, but parents also need to remember that influencers and the platforms that carry them, by and large, do not care about children. That is a parent's job.  

I'm grateful that my granddaughters have not been shoved into premature adulthood and left to navigate those treacherous waters. They still like childhood things. We talked to one of my granddaughters the other night, who loves her school because the teachers hand out ice cream pops every Friday. She wants to be a world-class chef and a brain surgeon. She and her cousins still enjoy the wonder and freedom of childhood, as they should. And one day, their grandmother and I will be happy to take them to Sephora to buy makeup for the first time. It will make a wonderful 30th birthday present.