“I
might be dumber by the end of summer, but at least it’s a good resume builder.”
Or that’s what I told my mom when I accepted an internship with a beauty
magazine. Spending three months writing blurbs about makeup that are as much
advertisements as they are “reviews” sounded about as stimulating as, well,
spending three months writing blurbs about makeup. So imagine my surprise when
I found myself enjoying it. Yes, I was writing about beauty products, but it
was still writing. And I like writing.
The
great thing about the beauty industry is that it doesn’t take itself too
seriously. It’s completely frivolous, and the people inside the industry are
just as aware of this as the people outside. My boss was educated,
well-traveled and the first person to admit she never expected to wind up at a
beauty magazine. She’s also one of the first people to admit: writing about
beauty is fun. And I agree.
I
spent my days coming up with the cheesiest puns imaginable: “Inglot Cosmetics
introduces a ‘scent-sational’ new fragrance line;” “Caffeine infused skincare,
see what the buzz is all about;” “Worried about extra fat on your pooch? No,
not your stomach, your dog.” (Did you know there’s liposuction for dogs now?!
But don’t worry it’s purely for health reasons.)
Aside
from being fun, the perks didn’t suck. It was an unpaid internship, but
there was a gym across the hall from me, an on site Starbucks where everything
was free, a manicurist every other week (also free), and the occasional free
beauty products. But corporate perks are never really free. Some part of your
soul has to be sold. So what’s the trade off? What gets lost along the way?
Artistic
integrity. Coming from an MFA program where everyone seems to be aiming for
different, where everyone wants to break through boundaries and do something
surprising, and where I sometimes feel too mainstream (not that I’m
complaining), writing about makeup is a big step in the opposite direction.
It’s a world where facts sometimes go unpublished in favor of advertising
revenue, and I know a lot of good writers who have moral qualms about that sort
of thing. Luckily for me, I’ve never been one with an overdeveloped sense of
righteous indignation. And chai tea lattes have a way of soothing my conscience
Sure,
maybe there’s something to be said for standards, for artistic integrity, for
locking yourself away in a remote cabin in the woods to write a great American
novel that no one will read until after your dead. At which point, moody high
schoolers will rent the movie and glance through the CliffNotes. But there’s
also something to be said for a building full of people sipping Americanos and
getting paid to put words on paper. There’s something to be said for paying off
student loans and not spending the last week of every month eating ramen
noodles. There’s something to be said for making your art into your living. So
don’t be afraid to trade in ten-dollar words for two-bit puns. It’s still
writing. And as for artistic integrity, that’s what weekends are for.
Shari Lefler is an MFA student and recipient of the President’s
Award at Florida Atlantic University. Her focus is on non-fiction, especially
travel and family memoir. Since entering the program, she has served as a
non-fiction editor for Coastlines Literary Magazine, and Vice President of
Graduate Teaching Assistants for the English Graduate Student Society. She has
also worked as an editorial intern for digital content at New Beauty Magazine.
She is currently organizing an underground group of rebel grammarians to join
her fight against overuse of the exclamation point. To become a soldier for the
cause, draw a semi-colon on a piece of masking tape and leave it outside your
nearest Barnes and Noble. She will find you.
