Suppose you’re scrolling idly through Instagram, searching for something mundane on Amazon, or arranging wallpaper swatches on Pinterest. From nowhere, you’re confronted with a beauty item you had no idea you needed, but that instantly seems essential and life-changing.
Now imagine you’re me and, despite knowing that 95% of these “thirst buys” (an unplanned purchase implanted in your brain at moments of least resistance) are useless, you have a professional imperative to buy them in the name of research, so that everyone else need not: face masks that dry so hard as to cause temporary paralysis; the “fast acting” gel polish remover that took longer than the painting of the Forth Bridge; and “ingenious, luxury” toiletries cases that appear fashioned from vinyl by someone on opiates. These are just a few of my many genuine thirst-buy disasters.
