The fact that Cindy Crawford looks amazing for her age is the main reason I opted to try her Meaningful Beauty skin care system. That, and because when I was a kid my mom bought her book "Cindy Crawford's Basic Face" and I became obsessed with it. (Is it any wonder I do what I do today?)

To be fair, the line is designed for someone a bit older than I am, but the whole goal is to give you glowing skin, which I'm all about. I really like the Glowing Serum (part of the 5-step system), which gives me an instant glow. Plus, she gives you a step-by-step guide for day and night, which is really helpful. The cleanser however is a bit meh, it feels drying to me and the bottle is impossible to squeeze product out of, so I'll be sticking with my Cetaphil.

Infomercial makeup is all about the minerals, so I decide to try two types: BareMinerals (the one that started it all) and Sheer Cover (Leeza Gibbons' line). I have a confession though: This is not my first go-round with mineral makeup, and every other time I've tried it, I've hated it. So I don't exactly have high hopes.

The weird thing is, when I apply either kind and look in the mirror, I feel like I'm wearing way too much and you can see every pore and line. But after a few hours it softened and I actually got a few compliments at work. So I'm still on the fence -- I don't think mineral makeup is for me, but I guess it can look good.

On the upside, while the foundation seems to highlight every flaw, BareMinerals makes some excellent mascara, blush, and eyeshadow, which I happily use throughout the week.

Of course, no beauty routine overhaul would be complete without new hair products. So I'm swapping out my usual shampoo and conditioner for Wen, the "revolutionary" cleansing cream from Chaz Dean, and my styling tools (flat iron and curling iron) for the Instyler, the "amazing rotating iron" that claims to both curl and straighten.

I've barely unpacked the Wen box when my husband begs me to throw out the brochure. Apparently Chaz Dean's piercing blue eyes freak him out and he doesn't want him in our bathroom. Oh-kaay. I make a note of how many pumps of product I need for my hair (16, which sounds like an insane amount) and trash the rest of the packaging.

It's weird to "wash" my hair with conditioner, not to mention glob on so much of it, but the product feels tingly on my scalp and after a lot of massaging and rinsing my hair does feel clean. Also a little flatter than usual, too bad I couldn't find any volumizing spray infomercials.

On the other hand, the Instyler claims to volumize as it straightens, so I give that a whirl � and a whirl � and a whirl. But nothing really happens. I've got the heat setting set for my hair type (fine/thin) but it just doesn't seem hot enough and my hair won't straighten. I feel like I'm using the hair version of children's plastic scissors -- I won't damage my hair but I'm having a heck of a time actually styling it.

This project started out as a beauty-based one, but since there's no shortage of workout products on TV; I decide to try one. Ultimately, I go for the iconic shake weight -- both because it claims you only need to do it for five minutes a day � and because my grandma already owns one and offers to let me borrow it.

While I can't keep that South Park episode out of my head while I'm using it, I have to say that I can "feel the burn" in my arms after only a few minutes.

I also go for broke and try adding the Slim Away belt to increase my workout. This wrap claims to "seal in body heat to help you lose excess water weight" and "works for everyone -- size 50 down to size 22." Clearly I should have read that second part more carefully before I bought the thing, because I'm not quite in that size range (nor is "everyone," but I guess they're taking some liberties with that term). When I try to wrap it around me, it's too big and the zippers won't line up. Looks like I'm hanging on to that water weight after all.

Yes, I use the word "fashion" here in the loosest sense, since I'm pretty sure Pajama Jeans won't end up on a runway anytime soon. I try them on with trepidation and they're � surprisingly � not that bad. They kind of look like trouser-cut jeans, although a bit ill fitting. The "small" size equates to a size 6, which is bigger than what I normally wear. (Seriously, why do these manufacturers leave out us wee ones? So unfair.)

So the jeans are big, but not un-wearable, thanks to the drawstring waist (that's a hard pill to swallow), and a pair of high heels. There is some puckering in the back though, if only I had a product to fix that � Oh wait, I do! It's called the Hip-T, a "layering accessory for your hips." Think tiny tube top-esque piece of fabric that covers muffin top, too-short shirts, and, hey, look, obvious drawstrings in your "jeans." And it comes in snazzy leopard print or "hearts of Hardy," a nod to the ticky-tacky Ed Hardy designs so popular with those Jersey Shore kids. (They also come in plain black and white too.)

I show up to work expecting everyone to immediately notice the pajama jeans, but no one does. I guess these can "pass" as regular pants. Finally, desperate for some kind of feedback, I tell a few co-workers what I'm wearing, and there's a stampede to my desk to inspect them. The consensus: "shockingly wearable." And I have to say, pretty comfy too -- at least until I get a knot in the drawstring and have to struggle in the bathroom stall, but I'll take the blame for that one.