Self-inflicted morning depression

The cosmetics/anti-aging shell game continues to baffle me.  Should I buy a spray gun to airbrush my foundation?  The bare minerals I use, conveniently packaged in a child-proof container, (and I'm no child) seem to work just fine for this no-nonsense chick.  Yet the industry continues to spend billions trying to convince me and other hopeless innocents that one tube/box/vial/pump bottle will magically transform me into my better self - no wrinkles, no sagging jawline, no blemishes.

I use "philosophy" and the reasons are endless.  And depressing.  First off - the stuff works for me.  I do think my wrinkles are being held at bay as well as possible without me walking around looking like I spread a can of Crisco on my face.  And "Amazing Grace," the cologne I use, is, well, amazing.  Again, personal preference.

The names of the potions and lotions though?  Start my day off on a down note.  "Hope in a Jar,"  "When Hope is not Enough," and my favorite, "Save Me."  
These are skin care products folks.  I don't need dunking at Lourdes - wouldn't work anyway - there are too many years on this face/neck to effect much change.  All I'm looking for is a good moisturizer.  My soul is fine.

And the wrinkles and sags?  Earned 'em all.  Don't like it, but at least I know what I'm working with.  And all the airguns in the world won't change that.