As of now, one of my freelance jobs is editing a tabloid here in the Keys. It’s hardly stressful, being that the actual editing only takes place one day a week. But that one day– Tuesday, for the record– is a doozy, with me glued to my computer for anywhere from 10 to 16 hours straight as we prepare to go to press. The first six hours I’m pumped, checkin’ mad blogs and having witty conversations with strangers in AOL chat rooms, just getting my internet on. But at around 11:30pm, when the web seems as stale as the last piece of Halloween candy that you just can’t bring yourself to throw away (I’m looking at you, sad wrinkled tootsie roll) I get pretty fucking antsy.
And because I can’t walk away from my laptop I’m left to do basically nothing other than pick at my face glumly and watch Hulu while my boyfriend trots in and out of the house, whistling cheerfully and describing what kinds of exciting nighttime parades I am missing outside.
In an effort to avoid going full-on Anne Frank, I like to make the most of my hermetic computer time by getting my personal spa on– you know, face masks, nail art, what have you.
Sometimes I like to get fancy and do an SK-II boogeyman mask or an elaborate, claw-like manicure. Other days I like to go home brewed (literally) and put some green tea bags on my lower eye area and maybe throw a hair mask on my tips. And some days it is all I can do to just stare at my computer screen, absent-mindedly pumicing my heels and wondering if I’ll ever be able to pull off plum-colored lipstick.
But mostly I like to do face masks. Usually clay ones, because they turn my face into an opaque, creamy spa ghost and because they look thick and frosting-like and luxurious, the desire for which I can only ascribe to watching that scene from Mrs. Doubtfire at a very formative age.
You know the one.
This morning, in anticipation of my inevitable afternoon editing slump, I ventured deeeeeep into so-cheap-it-might-contain-actual-dirt aisle of CVS and purchased this bad boy:
Have you noticed the funniest part of the above image?
No, it’s not that the model has what appear to be pine cones emerging from her eyes.
It’s that this $1.49 pack of mud ships for free— as though maybe that’ll seal the deal for you if the price seems a tad steep for your broke ass.
Anyway. It was pretty great as far as $1.49 face masks go, and I’ve done my fair share. Thick, buttery consistency, refreshing and full of oil-zapping clay, which is what I look for in a clay mask (go figure.) It wakes you up with its tingly, menthol-rich scent and it’s heavy on the [Dead Sea] salt, which means it’s great for drying out oily patches or existing acne flare-ups. AND it has a bunch of nice smelling essential oils in it that are soothing. A bouquet of great aspects for a face mask to have, really.
My skin was crazy smooth, clear and smelled like a basket of eucalyptus afterwards, but most importantly: my existing pores were less visible after I rinsed my face off. RESULTS YOU CAN SEE, people.
I followed up with a complimentary moisturizer (I used this one because it is fucking wonderful: Fresh Umbrian Clay Oil-Free Lotion) and I had myself a nice little mini-break for an hour or so.
BEAUTY: it’s not just for rich ladies with tiny dogs and Maybachs.
This other cheapo clay mask does an equally excellent job, but is a little more moisturizing and soothing rather than oil-stripping and pore-tightening, if that’s what you’re into– sometimes a lady likes to be soothed, but other times she likes to be slapped in the face by menthol vapors, you know? Choose your choice. In any case, choose this one for a less astringent but equally velvety treat: Freeman’s Clay, Avocado & Oatmeal Mask. And yes: It does cost a bit more than the pinecones-in-the-eyes mask costs…at the sky-high price of $2.99 it’s a bigger investment. You’ve been warned.
Sticking my face in a meringue because it looks so goddamn fun,