Spamdex - Spam Archive

Report spam

Send in your spam and get the offenders listed

Create a rule in outlook or simply forward the spam you receive to

Also in

Sorry, Great Lash Mascara Actually Sucks

View on the web

Facebook Twitter Instagram
I Worried I Was Weird for Hating Great Lash Mascara, But It Sucks

The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing makeup wearers that Great Lash by Maybelline is a good mascara that works well and should be put onto their eyelashes. NEWS FLASH: Great Lash mascara by Maybelline isn’t a good product, it doesn’t work well, and it shouldn’t be put onto anybody’s eyeball hairs.

I’ve hated Great Lash since I first encountered it in the gym locker room before a middle school dance. My friends and I had showered after a soccer game and changed into the requisite bell-bottom jeans and spaghetti-strap tank tops, the official circa-2001 uniform of adolescent girls about to slow dance with boys half their height. We made our way to the mirrors to apply the makeup we weren’t totally sure how to use.

“What is that pink and green thing in your makeup bag?” I asked one of the savvier girls in my class, who definitely had an older sister.

“It’s mascara,” she said.

“Can I use some of it?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said.

I didn’t know what putting on mascara was supposed to feel like, because I was in sixth grade and generally cared more about climbing trees than boys, so trying to make myself attractive wasn’t super high on my list. But I was pretty sure it shouldn’t have been as unpleasant an experience as Great Lash was providing: The wand stuck to my eyelashes rather than smoothly coating them, the stuff took a few applications to actually show up at all, and it clumped up around my eyelids. Between that and the eyeliner I laid on too thick, I ended up looking like a raccoon. When my mother picked me up after a few hours spent evading the grabby hands of 12-year-old males, she was rightly horrified.

I always thought my inexperience was to blame for my bad encounter with Great Lash, because people love this stuff. Since making its debut on the market as the first waterproof mascara in 1971, it’s flown off the shelves: It had 49.4 percent of the market segment in 2014, doing close to $50 million in sales. Of the 519 reviews on Amazon, it’s gotten 4.3 out of five stars. People write things like, “I've used this product for over 40 years. Maybelline has never let me down in all that time,” and “works as good if not better than any higher-end or department store brands.” It’s won Allure’s Reader’s Choice award every year for the past 20 with the exception of 2011.

Insert alt text here

I’ve spent my life feeling guilty for not liking Great Lash, the same way I felt guilty at that dance for not really liking the Spice Girls that much. Okay, fine, “Wannabe” is a banger, but in sixth grade I honestly couldn’t tell you any other song they sang, and I had no interest in finding out. Peer pressure, however, is a hell of a drug; I didn’t want to be the weirdo who thought a Cool Thing was bad, so I lied about my lack of interest and pretended I wanted to be Sporty. I also kept my mouth shut when it came to my negative Great Lash opinions.

I’ve held onto the belief that I was the moron and that Great Lash is truly great for about 15 years. I’d see it in drug stores and nod begrudgingly, aware that I was the problem, before buying L'Oréal Voluminous, a mascara that is the goddamn truth. I’d glance over at women’s makeup bags at the gym, see the familiar garish pink and green, and turn away in shame, embarrassed that I couldn’t love something so universally adored.

A few weeks ago, however, everything changed. I was getting ready for work in my bathroom at home, tried to pick up my mascara, and lost my grip. I fumbled it a few times before I managed to drop it directly into the toilet.

I can safely say that you don’t know the true depths of misery until you’re staring at a brand-new tube of your favorite mascara as it sits at the bottom of the toilet bowl when you’re already running late. There are some things that you can drop in an empty toilet and still use, of course: I’m pretty sure I’ve dropped sunscreen in there before, fished it out, washed it thoroughly, and used its contents.

But you guys saw Knocked Up, right? You know that scene where all of Seth Rogan’s roommates get pink eye because they farted on each other’s pillows? Of course you do, which is why you’ll understand that I was not about to take any chances by putting something that had been in a toilet near my eyes.

So now I had two problems: I had to reach into my toilet, and I had to buy new mascara. I was supposed to be in a video for work that day and I wasn’t about to show up bare-lashed in front of the entire sports internet (and by entire sports internet I mean the small population of people who know I exist and watched me talk about The Bachelor on Facebook Live).

I ducked into the somewhat janky pharmacy next to my apartment rather than go slightly out of my way to a Duane Reade or CVS. And, to make a shitty morning even more shitty, wouldn’t you know it: The only kind of mascara they sold was Great Lash.

I stared my nemesis in the face and considered leaving empty handed. But desperate times call for desperate measures, so I gritted my teeth, brought it up to the counter, and swiped my card in one of the the more painful purchasing experiences of my life. I consoled myself by hoping that maybe there’d be a silver lining to my terrible, no good, very bad morning: Maybe I would finally get over my unfounded hatred of this product.

Well, folks, I’m here to report that 12-year-old me was super right. This stuff is terrible. As I put it on in the office bathroom, I was transported back to my middle school experience: Not only does Great Lash snag on your lashes as you apply it, it clumps at the base, requires at least seven coats, and somehow gets all over your top lid when you put it on. When I tried to take it off later that night, it stubbornly stuck to each lash, eventually migrating its way down to my lower lids, where it sat like shadows of sadness until I used five sheets of makeup remover to convince it to get off my damn face. I think I ended up pulling out 15 eyelashes as I tried to scrub my eyes clean.

Listen: I’m 28. I’ve had enough years of putting on good mascara by now to finally realize that the stuff should go on easily and not feel like medieval torture to remove. By now I am confident enough in my own opinions and experiences to finally announce that it’s not me, it’s you, Great Lash. In fact, not only am I sure of its terribleness, but I have also developed a conspiracy theory that everyone — from Allure’s scheming readers to my sixth-grade classmates — must be deep in the pockets of Big Mascara. That’s the only reason I can possibly come up with to justify how the hell this piece-of-shit product has managed to sell so well for so many decades. Maybe everyone is just a cog in the machine that is the Mascara Industrial Complex.

I was right about there being a silver lining, however: Since getting myself to a Duane Reade to buy a new tube of my beloved L'Oréal, I now appreciate how smoothly it goes on more than I ever have before. And I’ve finally been able to shed years of mascara shame thanks to my discovery that Great Lash is, as I always suspected, truly trash.

But perhaps the real takeaway here is that dropping something in a toilet could be the best method for flushing away your ill-conceived convictions. Maybe all of us are only ever one swirlie away from the truth. Charlotte Wilder, SB Nation staff writer

Have strong feelings about Great Lash or a different Maybelline mascara? Tell us about it!  

Deal of the Day

Veda quietly started its spring warehouse sale online and in stores today with really good deals on leather jackets, should you be needing one right now. This dark blue suede motorcycle jacket is $425 (from $990), as is this version in mustard and this one in white leather. Don’t want to spend that much? Clothes are significantly cheaper: Check out this pretty terra cotta-colored summer dress for $75.

Insert alt text here
In the News
Can Amazon Make Fashion Faster?
Insert alt text here

We know by now that Amazon is coming for our closets, and yesterday, the e-comm giant was granted a patent for a system of manufacturing clothing on demand — that is, after a customer has placed their order. Amazon has built its empire on innovative logistics — i.e. figuring out how to get things to your door faster than anyone else — and this concept fits right in with that. According to the patent, Amazon’s new process would make apparel production and delivery more efficient by, among other things, grouping orders in batches based on where they’ll eventually be shipped. Enjoy deciphering the illustration of this system above. — Eliza Brooke, senior reporter

Ad from our sponsor
Can Tech Help Fitting Rooms Suck Less?
Insert alt text here

You’re out shopping and you’ve spotted a dress you like. You wander on over to the fitting room to try it on — only to find that it doesn’t quite fit. What do you do now? Will you slip into your old clothes, get back out there on the floor, pick the right size, and try it on again? Michelle Tinsley, director of mobility and secure payments in the retail solutions division at Intel, predicts that unless you’re really in love with that dress, those chances are pretty slim.

The numbers back her up. Intel’s internal research found that a whopping 73 percent of the time, consumers browse online but then buy in store. “When you take that effort, you go into the store, you actually want to complete [the transaction], so you’re going to be irritated or mad if you drove all the way to the store only to be forced back online,” Tinsley says. “We found that people only go into a dressing room once and get undressed once. If they can’t get the right size and the right fit and they leave the dressing room, it’s very hard to get them to go back into the dressing room a second time.” This, for retailers, is a problem — one they’re increasingly looking to solve with technology.

Sure, there are fitting rooms with call buttons you can push for sales help, but even such solutions are not the fix that many are looking for. Enter: the smart fitting room.

When you walk into the fitting room of the future, Tinsley explains, expect to see a mirror that will recognize the dress you bring in. The mirror will display your item, overlaying it on the screen, which would work almost like a virtual dashboard. If the dress doesn’t fit, make a request on the mirror’s interactive display for a different size or even a different color. When you do so, the sales associate on the floor will be alerted: “Nancy’s in dressing room three, she needs a size up in this dress, in this color; bring it to her now.” Even better, that call to action is moved up the queue to become the highest-priority task for the associate. The result? A new size delivered to you while you’re still likely to try it on.

Keep reading >>
Just One thing
The Sporty Swimsuit Giving 'Hot Camp Counselor' Vibes
Insert alt text here

There are two kinds of people: those who went to summer camp (and, crucial distinction, enjoyed it) and those who didn’t. And while some of my favorite people are self-proclaimed Indoor Kids, those particular friends will never totally understand my personal holy grail of hotness: camp counselor.

I can technically understand why a string bikini might be considered “hot,” or why the Baywatch-era high-cut tank is making a comeback as the sexy swimsuit du jour. But for me, it’s a shrink-wrapped, Speedo-backed one-piece every time — preferably accessorized with rolled-down athletic shorts, Adidas slip-ons, and/or a lifeguard whistle. I even like the ensuing tan lines.

The irony is that the idea of the thing does not match the reality of the thing. The original TYR practice suits had skinny straps and a streamlined profile, but the unlined butt would turn threadbare halfway through a summer. And Speedo still makes a version of the suit, but the neckline lies in a no-man’s land between fashionably high and flatteringly low.

I am now twice as old as I was my last summer at camp and was until recently still in search of this elusive swim costume that stays put during activities, minimizes boobs, and, at this point in my life, doesn’t make me look like a mom or a teen.

Enter the Dolphin swimsuit. Never had I ever shopped at Sweaty Betty, but I’ll be damned if this little number doesn’t check every box for an aging wannabe camp counselor. It’s also black — appropriate for the New Yorker on an urgent mission to shop for, say, a three-day backpacking trip in Hawaii.

After so much time spent obsessing over my idealized Just One Thing, once it was on, it didn’t monopolize my attention at all: no tugging, no wedgie-picking, no re-tying straps. Turns out the real indication of a gold-medal swimsuit is never even giving it a second thought. —Kelsey Keith, Curbed editor-in-chief 

Did a friend forward you this email? Sign up for the Racked newsletter.


All titles, content, publisher names, trademarks, artwork, and associated imagery are trademarks and/or copyright material of their respective owners. All rights reserved. The Spam Archive website contains material for general information purposes only. It has been written for the purpose of providing information and historical reference containing in the main instances of business or commercial spam.

Many of the messages in Spamdex's archive contain forged headers in one form or another. The fact that an email claims to have come from one email address or another does not mean it actually originated at that address! Please use spamdex responsibly.

Yes YOU! Get INVOLVED - Send in your spam and report offenders

Create a rule in outlook or simply forward the junk email you receive to | See contributors

Google + Spam 2010- 2017 Spamdex - The Spam Archive for the internet. unsolicited electric messages (spam) archived for posterity. Link to us and help promote Spamdex as a means of forcing Spammers to re-think the amount of spam they send us.

The Spam Archive - Chronicling spam emails into readable web records index for all time

Please contact us with any comments or questions at Spam Archive is a non-profit library of thousands of spam email messages sent to a single email address. A number of far-sighted people have been saving all their spam and have put it online. This is a valuable resource for anyone writing Bayesian filters. The Spam Archive is building a digital library of Internet spam. Your use of the Archive is subject to the Archive's Terms of Use. All emails viewed are copyright of the respected companies or corporations. Thanks to Benedict Sykes for assisting with tech problems and Google Indexing, ta Ben.

Our inspiration is the "Internet Archive" USA. "Libraries exist to preserve society's cultural artefacts and to provide access to them. If libraries are to continue to foster education and scholarship in this era of digital technology, it's essential for them to extend those functions into the digital world." This is our library of unsolicited emails from around the world. See Spamdex is in no way associated though. Supporters and members of Helping rid the internet of spam, one email at a time. Working with Inernet Aware to improve user knowlegde on keeping safe online. Many thanks to all our supporters including Vanilla Circus for providing SEO advice and other content syndication help | Link to us | Terms | Privacy | Cookies | Complaints | Copyright | Spam emails / ICO | Spam images | Sitemap | All hosting and cloud migration by Cloudworks.

Important: Users take note, this is Spamdex - The Spam Archive for the internet. Some of the pages indexed could contain offensive language or contain fraudulent offers. If an offer looks too good to be true it probably is! Please tread, carefully, all of the links should be fine. Clicking I agree means you agree to our terms and conditions. We cannot be held responsible etc etc.

The Spam Archive - Chronicling spam emails into readable web records

The Glass House | London | SW19 8AE |
Spamdex is a digital archive of unsolicited electronic mail 4.9 out of 5 based on reviews
Spamdex - The Spam Archive Located in London, SW19 8AE. Phone: 08000 0514541.