Of birds and beauty – merry laments of a skincare-aholic
What’s the connection you ask? Let me start at the beginning. 🙂
I’ve never been particularly vain about most things. Let’s be honest, I’m far from the ideal weight. I’ve had my share of vices that can wreak havoc on the human body. And exercise is the only bit of bad language I won’t use ;). You get my drift.
My skin, however, has been a different story. Especially my face. All manner of lotion and potion has found its way into my bathroom cabinets (note the use of plural). I do have an awful lot in there. I have moisturizers, scrubs, serums and eye creams. Every scrap of make up I own has a skin care component. I get unerringly regular facials. I can typically tell you with a great degree of accuracy how good or bad a product is. Because if it’s for my age group, chances are I’ve tried it!
Now I have no idea whether it’s because of this or not, but my skin, for the most part, has behaved.
That was until four years ago. When my child was born! Since then my skin has been a roller coaster of immense highs and lows I don’t even want to talk about. This morning I looked at my vaguely pumice-stone-esque face and resigned myself to being subjected to a facial. Yes, that’s what it’s become. Subjecting myself to a facial. Because with varying degrees of adult onset acne and other horrors, facials have become less about indulgence and more about misery-inducing implements.
This new round of acting up from my face reminded me of an earlier beauty episode. God knows I’ll take any laughs I can get now!
Through pregnancy, my great skin started to fly out the window as I said. Glow you ask? I have two words for you… They lie! I had issues from eruptions to peeling and everything in between. I’ve had people attribute it to hormones, the body detoxing, ‘Oh you’re having a girl I bet. Girls steal your beauty’. Why, thank you dumbass. I needed someone pointing out that I wasn’t looking my best today, how lovely of you to volunteer!
D-day was no magical cure, lack of sleep being no help. After the birth, for months, my poor skin got barely any fresh air, leave alone facials. So, finally, in month 5PB (post baby) I felt in control enough of my life to get one. I dragged my tired person onto my facialist’s table and showed her my skin, preparing for gasps of horror. And bless her little cotton socks, she took it in her stride. Now I had been seeing this particular therapist for a while. We’ve held hands and walked through some pretty serious stuff. Needless to say I trusted her.
I poured my heart out about the blotchy skin and how I could no longer leave the house without makeup on because I was afraid of stopping traffic with the shades of red on my face. ‘No worries,’ she says, ‘we’ll fix it with a bird poop mask.’ ‘Poop?’ I ask. ‘Yeah don’t worry, it’s nightingale poop. The ultimate skin brightening treatment.’ ‘Well, if it’s nightingale…’ I say, rolling my eyes.
Apparently nightingale poop was all the rage at the time in the circles that count! Like all things new, it claimed an ancient heritage. It was used eons ago in Japan by the Geishas to keep their skin porcelain white and bright.
I was not so sure! However, refer aforementioned trust… I gave in. She slathered my face in the stuff, and because I knew what it was, of course, I thought the smell was unbearable. (I’m sure it wasn’t, it’s not like they scooped it up just when the nightingale had gone!)
A few days post-facial, my skin started to flake. Not attractive at the time, but a week on, it dramatically improved! Not perfect but loads better. Unfortunately, I moved shortly after and didn’t get to see what a steady diet of bird poop for the skin would do. But with a couple of those, I’ve kept my skin somewhat resembling human for nearly three years. That’s something!
Now I’ve always been honest in that I know I’ll go any distance to keep the sagging and bagging at bay. When the day comes, I’m pretty sure a nip-tuck won’t faze me. However, in my quest, I hardly thought I’d find shit! Literally. But hey, what works, works right? 😉
Have you got any strange beauty secrets to share with me perchance? Drawing the line at other forms of crap, anything that will help me combat this round of uglies??
This post is a modified version of a post on a blog called ‘Diving in Eyeliner’ that I used to write when I lived in Dubai a few years ago. So much has changed in my life since then, usually for the better. But skincare… not so much :).