My Name is Monique Reavis
I am a California chick that lives in the big city Frank Sinatra belts out about. I turn up my nose to all spelling mistakes. I am a karaoke microphone hog, or as my mom puts it “a frustrated pop star”. I never turn down a battle on the dance floor. I get turned on by big vocabulary (note: email me hot, thesaurus-toting men). I have an abnormal fandom for Saturday Night Live and Mexican food. I firmly did believe I would marry Brandon Walsh and would prove all my 7th grade nay-saying “friends” wrong. I remember the day I was born…yep, seriously. I use the word “phenomenal” in place of “amazing”, just because “amazing” is too overused. I design for one of the biggest fashion brands in the world, and I can’t tell you who. Oh, and I have no cavities.
I also am an infomaniac. I get in bed with any and all the information I can get. In fact, one of my infomania trysts brought me here. A few years back, I found out that cosmetics can deliver some harmful punches to our health. I was lead to the Environmental Working Group’s Cosmetic Database and was alarmed, upset, and saddened by what my products had in them.
To put it bluntly, most of our everyday beauty and personal care products are pumped up with some f***’d up ingredients that can cause cancer, birth defects, and make your sons’ penises small. Try soaking that up everyday.
In 2008, my father was diagnosed with stage IV malignant melanoma. The last time he was diagnosed with malignant melanoma was in the 80’s. If you are not familiar, stage IV is the highest stage of cancer and malignant melanoma is the deadliest form of skin cancer. Double whammy. I flew home to be with him for his first big dog oncology appointment at UCLA Medical Center. Sitting in that office is when I found out what my parents chose not to tell me prior: he had only weeks left. I couldn’t go back to New York, he was my only father. I stayed, became his partner in crime (ironically his name is Clyde), and took care of him every day. 5 weeks later, my father passed.
Watching and enduring what my father went through those last few weeks is really why I’m here. We should not be exposed to these shi*ty chemicals unknowingly and we all deserve to die in the least pain possible. I know I owe that to myself and to my future children. You deserve to be painless too.
So, I’m here to deliver you healthy vanity that may make you last longer too. Call me the Fountain of Youth.
Oh, and by the way, I don’t do granola-crunchy. Markets are for food, not beauty. So, you can count on me to deliver you high-end, healthy beauty products sans cereal, sans patchouli. It is time for natural makeup to deliver you the luxury makeup counter experience we so deserve.