Beauty

  • The suns of my youth

    P keeps asking me if I notice a difference driving my car with four new tires. And I’m really trying to feel the difference but, as far as I can tell, it’s not something tangible that instantly improves a situation, like say a great pair of wedge heels.

    Even as Caroline walked out to the car this morning, she said, “Those tires don’t look any different”.

    Yep.

    A whole lot of not different.

    But here’s something that’s different. Apparently I turned into an eighty-year-old woman over the winter months.

    Over the last six or so years, I have become pretty diligent about keeping sunscreen on my face. Just call it a desperate attempt to make up for an ill spent youth that consisted of days spent getting the perfect tan on my face with no sunscreen.

    The 70’s were a kinder, gentler time when people didn’t know words like OZONE or LONG-TERM SUN DAMAGE.

    Oh sure, I was on the swim team for much of my childhood and I always wore the requisite zinc oxide smeared across my nose, but that was more for the look. THE COOL SWIMMER LOOK.

    I didn’t care if my nose got sunburned and I certainly wasn’t concerned with any reapplication after swimming, I just wanted to look like all the cool older swimmers as we sat and ate our packets of dry Jello gelatin in between races.

    Why did we eat Jello gelatin? I can’t remember but I think it involved some theory about providing energy. Or maybe just a sugar high that could fuel a nine-year-old to victory in the 100 meter freestyle. Whatever. ALL THE COOL KIDS DID IT.

    Anyway, at some point in my late twenties, it became apparent that my skin had suffered some sun damage. The main thing that concerned me was the fact that it wouldn’t really tan in the sun anymore. It would just turn red and splotchy. HOT LOOK BY THE POOL.

    Are you suffering from heat stroke? No, I just fried my skin throughout childhood. This is my consequence.

    Then, after Caroline was born almost five years ago, my hormones exploded in the form of melasma, also known as evil mask of pregnancy. The first summer after she was born, in spite of my liberal use of sunscreen, I developed dark, patchy spots in the perfect form of a mustache.

    Horror doesn’t begin to describe it.

    When I close my eyes, I can still hear my screaming.

    Thankfully I managed to micro-dermabrasion and bleach away that bad boy. Otherwise I would currently be wearing a veil over my face for all public outings lest I scare the little children or cause them to think they’re at the circus.

    So, these days I wear some heavy-duty sunscreen in addition to various big, floppy hats to provide maximum sun protection. Even though between the hat and the big sunglasses I look like someone’s Aunt Maude having a day at the pool.

    I fully expect that Caroline will end up in therapy over the hats her mama wore to the pool throughout her childhood.

    While we were in Florida last week I became giddy with all the freedom, threw caution to the wind and played in the ocean for at least an hour without a hat on. My face didn’t burn because I had on my SPF 170, but it did get some sun for the first time in five years.

    There are vampires that have seen more daylight than my face.

    Anyway, that little moment of indiscretion in the waves came back to haunt me in the form of not one, but TWO age spots. I’d like to say they are freckles, but I’ve never seen a freckle a 1/4 inch in diameter. For that matter, I’ve never seen a freckle that looks like a map of the former Czech Republic.

    Needless to say, the micro-dermabrasion has been working overtime since I returned home to the harsh reality of my bathroom mirror with overhead lighting. Also, there has been many a prayer for skincare redemption being lifted to the heavens.

    I think at least one of the age spots has faded to the point of looking like it could at least be a distant cousin to a freckle, but I will never make such a grave error again.

    So, if you need to find me at the pool just look for Maw-Maw sitting in the shade with a hat that could be mistaken for a satellite dish.

  • The internet continues to change my life

    So yesterday I was too absorbed in my tale of Mother’s Day woe to comment on the astounding amount of fabulous beauty tips contained within the comments of Friday’s post.

    Well done, internet. Well done.

    Y’all provided a wealth of useful information.

    And caused me to make an emergency trip to the HEB to purchase several beauty items that now seem to be paramount to my existence.

    Because if there is anything that will cause me to drop some cash, it’s the allure of maintaining some sort of youthful glow which will enable me to pretend that I am not just one year away from attending my twentieth high school reunion.

    (HERE’S WHERE THERE SHOULD BE A PHOTO OF MY HEB PURCHASES. OLIVE OIL, CASTOR OIL, SESAME OIL, A BODY BRUSH, AND SOME YOPLAIT LOW-FAT YOGURT. BUT THERE IS NO PICTURE BECAUSE WORDPRESS IS TRYING TO DRIVE ME SLOWLY INSANE. JUST USE YOUR IMAGINATION.)

    The Yoplait Low-Fat Yogurt wasn’t one of the beauty tips, but I did choose to buy the low-fat version as opposed to the fat-free version because after I wrote my post declaring my love for the Yoplait Fat-Free, someone let me know that the fat-free version contains aspartame and if I continue to eat it I will be dead in a year.

    Aspartame = evil potion of death

    Got it.

    Let’s just not discuss my love of Diet Coke.

    Some things are non-negotiable.

    So assuming that I’m going to live another day now that I’ve rid myself of excess aspartame, I’ve decided to embrace a few new additions to my beauty rituals.

    1. Dry-brushing – Please note the new body brush that I purchased at HEB. (USE YOUR IMAGINATION) Hanlie was the first person to mention the dry-brushing and she had me at “helps with cellulite”. Sure it can help rid your body of toxins as well, but no one can see toxins when you’re wearing a swimsuit.

    I emailed Hanlie and asked, “WHAT UP with the dry-brushing? Help me. I do not understand but I want to learn more about this potential miracle.”

    She emailed me back with some more information and actually sent me this link to a post she wrote about dry-brushing.

    I have now dry-brushed for two days. Can’t really say that I feel any different so far, other than the release of all the aspartame that was stored in my lymphatic system.

    2. Castor oil and olive oil face cleansing – I thought castor oil was just something that they used in cartoons. I had no idea it had a real live purpose or that you can find it with all the laxatives in the pharmacy section of the store.

    Picture me at HEB with a cart filled with Yoplait, olive oil, castor oil, sesame oil and the body brush. The cashier didn’t even look me in the eye. He probably thought I was in need of some serious help.

    Jenni at Makeshift Mama was the one who suggested the oil cleaning method. Of course I emailed her because HELP! I need more information. How much oil? What kind of mixture? I want to learn, but I am slow. She graciously sent me some more information and the link to this post about it.

    I did it for the first time last night which was risky because I am suffering from horrendous PMS that has turned my chin into a vicious battleground for control of my pores. It just seemed to have BAD IDEA written all over it. But I am a risk-taker by nature.

    That is such a lie.

    I hate risk. Risk makes me queasy.

    It didn’t make it any easier when P followed me into the bathroom to see what I was doing. I told him it was a miracle cleansing solution for skin.

    “Who told you about it?”

    “Well, somebody I don’t know told me about it on the internet.”

    Which made me seem totally credible and informed.

    He then spent the rest of the night telling me that every time he got close to me he had a strange craving for Italian food.

    He is a comedian.

    But this risk paid off. I awoke yesterday morning to glowing skin.

    And a craving for pasta.

    3. Neutrogena Sesame Oil – I actually used this product a long time ago but always managed to make a huge, oily mess every time I used it. Now, thanks to the marvel that is the internet, someone let me know that I could put it in a spray bottle and mist myself with it when I get out of the shower.

    Well, yes. That makes perfect sense.

    Although my first moisturizing love will always be Hummingbird Farms Lavender Lotion. It’s divine.

    4. I have always heard that you can use Preparation H to help with bags under your eyes, but Tammy left a comment that mentioned you can also use it to get rid of those creases in your face caused by a waning amount of collagen and the bedsheets.

    I didn’t have the nerve to buy the Preparation H at the same time I bought all my other stuff because the cashier might have decided to call an ambulance due to what appeared to be some monumental gastrointestinal issues, but I’ll buy it next time so that Caroline will quit telling me she can see my brains on my forehead.

    5. Lora Lynn and several other commenters talked about using Coconut Oil on their face. Apparently it’s not only edible and will make you smell like the Hawaiian Tropic model, but it’s also an effective anti-bacterial moisturizer.

    I wasn’t sure where to buy Coconut Oil and thought I might have to make Caroline spend her summer grinding coconuts into oil to make Mama beautiful, but Quirky let me know that you can buy it at Walmart or any drugstore in the health and beauty aisle.

    6. Jenn mentioned the importance of using a topical Vitamin C product to help with collagen production. Sign me up for some Vitamin C.

    7. A bunch of y’all mentioned Aquaphor as the miracle cure for almost everything. I discovered Aquaphor when Caroline was a baby and had dry skin. I’ve been a fan ever since.

    8. Last but not least, Sara emailed me to tell me about silicone primer. It’s a new product that you use after your moisturizer and before you put on foundation. It’s supposed to refine your pores and give you a flawless makeup finish. She is a fan of this primer that you can purchase at Sephora.

    So I guess y’all know where I will be tomorrow.

    Clearly, I am very impressionable.

    And I’m thinking once I start slathering my face with silicone, is it really going to matter if I ingest a lot of aspartame? Haven’t I already crossed some kind of non-natural boundary line?

    I’ll report back in a few weeks on all my new beauty regimens.

    Hopefully I’ll have the skin of a newborn baby.

    Well, if you covered newborn babies in all manner of oils and Preparation H.

  • Edition 28: Fashion Friday

    I’ve spent most of this week suffering at the hands of various allergens in the air. And also whining about my scratchy, sore throat, fatigue, congestion and itchy eyes.

    Wish you were here!

    So about five minutes ago, when I realized it was time to write Fashion Friday, I came up with another one of my brilliant ideas.

    Thank you, Blair Warner.

    I don’t have the energy to search all over the internet for fashion finds right now. Sure, I have a lot of questions in my Fashion Friday File and I’ll get to them someday. But today is not that day.

    I’m going to let y’all do most of the work today because I am the Tom Sawyer of the blog world.

    I want to know the best piece of beauty and/or fashion advice anyone ever gave you. And I don’t want to hear things like “It’s what’s on the inside that matters”. Blah, blah, blah.

    We know that. The inside is the most important thing. I’m looking for shallow, superficial beauty tips that have changed your beauty regimen.

    I’ll share three pieces of beauty advice that personally changed my life.

    1. A tan makes everything look better. It’s part of Einstein’s Theory of Relativity.

    You can’t fight science.

    Many of y’all have commented or emailed to inquire about what kind of self-tanner I prefer. I use Neutrogena in a medium shade. Sure there are other brands that cost more and might be a little better, but I have always been happy with the Neutrogena. It gives me a good glow and I can buy it at HEB.

    I also like Jergens Natural Glow to maintain some good color because I can just put it on like moisturizer and not worry as much about streaking and lines.

    2. Never underestimate the importance of plucking your eyebrows.

    My mama hounded me for years about tweezing my eyebrows but I completely ignored her. What does she know? My eyebrows look great and aren’t at all bushy.

    This is a picture of me my junior year in high school.

    11thgrade.jpg

    I should have listened to my mother.

    In the future whenever Caroline doesn’t want to listen to me, I will show her this picture to serve as a cautionary tale about the perils of not listening to your mother’s beauty advice.

    And on a side note, even if permed bangs looked darling on Meg Ryan in the last scene of “When Harry Met Sally”, doesn’t mean they work for everyone.

    3. A good mascara is worth its weight in gold.

    Which wouldn’t actually be very much.

    So I guess what I’m trying to say is a good mascara is invaluable.

    I recently made the best mascara discovery of my life.

    Covergirl LashBlast.

    It has a rubber-bristled brush that’s different than other mascaras so it’s like using a fine tooth comb on your eyelashes. It defines and separates each lash in a way that defies logic and convention.

    So dear internet, it is your turn. Spill the beans with your best beauty advice.

    And have a great Friday!

  • My life is hard

    I was looking at my WordPress dashboard last night and noticed that someone found my blog by googling, “Help, my eyelashes have grown back in pointing downwards.”

    Well, great.

    As if I don’t have enough on my mind with the downward spiral of the stock market, the Presidential race, and whether or not to let my hair grow back out, now I have to worry about the possibility that my eyelashes are growing in at a downward angle.

    There isn’t an eyelash curler in the world that can fix that.

  • Sunshine on my shoulders from a bottle

    I realize that some of you wanted to see a picture of the offensive earrings that required my daughter to pray them away like something that smelled bad, and I would totally show them to you except I’m way too busy to get up, pause the DVR, find the camera and take a picture.

    But there isn’t much to see anyway since the earrings are just plain, silver hoops.

    I’m not sure why they were offensive, especially to someone who wears clip-on earrings with a picture of Barbie’s face on them.

    Anyway, we had a pretty uneventful weekend around here, which seems to be a trend. However, I learned two things over the weekend.

    No wait, I learned three.

    1. If I could be any Hollywood star (which other than my lack of acting ability, I’m not sure what’s standing in my way) I would be the lovely Jennifer Garner. Her dress was spectacular last night. Her hair was divine. Her makeup was impeccable.

    2. I’m not sure what up with John Travolta’s hair, but it appeared that he had used some type of spray-on hair paint. In a color that could only be called “Eddie Munster Black”.

    3. If you happen to use Jergens Self-Tanning Lotion, do not store the bottle in its upright position. This is tricky because it’s in a tube that will make you think you can set it down on its flip-top cap. Wrong. This will cause maximum self-tan waste, although with any luck the shelf-lining of my bathroom cabinet will look fresh and sun-kissed by morning.

    I realize that last item doesn’t have anything to do with the Academy Awards, however, it was the most valuable discovery of my weekend.

    The weather was gorgeous. Sunny. 80 degrees. Not a cloud in the sky. The kind of weather that turns my thoughts to my pasty, winter-white skin and the need for a little glow.

    We spent a lot of time outside so I hoped I had gotten a little natural color going, but something odd has happened to me in my mid-30’s. I don’t tan. I also don’t really burn. I just stay the same. It’s as if my pigment has died on the inside, much like my love for Ricky Schroeder did after “Silver Spoons” went off the air.

    In spite of some time in the sun (And I know, sunscreen, ozone, blah, blah, blah. Can’t we focus on the positives, like my awesome intake of Vitamin D?) I remain winter white. So, I decided it was time for some self-tanner because, after waking up this morning with a wrinkle running through my forehead that was so deep I could feel it with my hand before I ever looked in the mirror, I need all the help I can get.

    P didn’t help matters when he saw an old picture of the two of us sitting on the desk. He asked, “When was this taken?” I told him it was taken right after we got married, so about ten years ago. He replied, “Man, we are not going to look good in ten more years.”

    What’s with the “we”? I don’t know what his plans are but I’m going to fight it with everything I have.

    And, currently, what I have is a bottle of self-tanner that is now more than half-empty.

    I’m probably going to need something else.

  • The pain is because of my gain

    Well, y’all will probably be as relieved as I was to know that according to some “experts” on the internet, my eyelashes should grow back in six to eight weeks. In the meantime I will be walking around with a naked eye because false eyelashes aren’t really in the cards for me due to the fact that I have the manual dexterity of a monkey with oversized hands that has just finished a bottle of cheap tequila.

    It’s really for the best because I’d probably end up developing some sort of addiction to long, lush lashes and before you know it I’d look like Zsa Zsa Gabor but younger and brunette. And possibly alive.

    Is Zsa Zsa still with us? I don’t want to put someone prematurely in their grave. I already did that once upon a time to Ed McMahon and I just felt awful about it for nearly three seconds.

    Anyway, yesterday Caroline had school. It was pajama day and also, pancake day. Can anyone guess what letter they are learning this week?

    I knew that you could.

    I dressed her in new pajamas that I purchased at Target. I knew she would love them because they had an iron-on transfer kitten on the shirt and she is a fan of kitschy. Sure enough, when she saw them she jumped into my arms and gave me a big hug. It’s just a matter of time before I completely give in to her fashion desires and begin purchasing shirts that glitter and sparkle and feature twee little animals like puppies and unicorns.

    After I dropped Caroline and her homage to the 70’s t-shirt off at preschool, I headed home. I was determined to do some form of exercise because it has come to my attention that I am officially three months away from having to wear a swimsuit in public almost every day.

    If that doesn’t strike fear in your heart then you are a better woman than me.

    As I sadly discovered while looking in the dressing room mirror at Target, my backside is not really swimsuit ready. It has spent this chilly winter comfortably wrapped in flannel pajama bottoms, yoga pants and jeans. It has led a sheltered, pampered life since October when it discovered the evil that is candy corn, and then binged on in to December in the form of homemade toffee. And now it must pay.

    I put the dogs on their leashes and we headed out with all the grace of the aforementioned monkey. We walked, and jogged, and got horrendous side cramps from the exertion. Of course that might have just been Scout and me because Bruiser seemed totally fine. He’s always been so athletic.

    When we finally arrived back home I decided I needed to continue to pay the toffee piper and did about forty lunges on the back porch and then some stomach crunches. I say “some” because I lost count about the time I started crying from the pain.

    At that point my legs and abdominal muscles let me know that I am a dirty, rotten, toffee-eating hag and they would like to go live on someone else’s body.

    Which makes me hopeful that perhaps Giselle Bundchen legs are also looking for a new body and if so, I am totally available.