Tag Archives: face masks

Afternoon Quickie

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:

Why are her eyes sprouting trees?


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,


Get down with it.



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AN EXCITING TIME (for face masks and bubble baths)

Yes, the most important part of today is that you should get your ass out and vote.

The SECOND most important thing about today is that I am SO excited about the release of the following two products that I feel like I am going to THROW UP all over my “I Voted” sticker.


AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Ole Henriksen I wish you were my BEST FRIEND and we could spend all day LAUGHING and TALKING and PEELING OUR FACES OFF WITH LEMONS.

Look at that swoopy brush it comes with! Imagine how fucking luxurious and soft it feels to apply your face mask with that! YOU CAN BE YOUR OWN FACIALIST!

This peel has like a million things in it that I am deeply, problematically in love with. Lactic Acid? Fruit acid? Glycolic acid? ALL MY ACIDS UP IN THIS JAR.

Licorice Extract? Oh you KNOW I’m gonna have some bright-ass skin from that.


When this face peel arrives I might sleep with it under my pillow at night, I might eat the whole jar and have to go to the hospital, I might write a boppity song and post it on youtube and await my big break. So many choices. So many emotions.

I am going to drown in this.

This stuff used to only be available in a beautiful, medium-sized (13.5 oz) bottle that cost EIGHTY AMERICAN DOLLARS, which, I mean, it’s essentially a hopped-up drunk bubble bath. That’s excessive. That’s Mariah Carey demanding a thousand white orchids and fifty cans of Beluga caviar in her tour bus excessive. No one needs to pay 80 bones for bubble bath, I don’t care if you literally shit gold.

But Oh, oh man. Oh man was it delightful and alllllllllllllmost worth it. Like, super-expensive-hostess-gift-for-when-Ethel-Kennedy-invites-you-over-for-dinner worth it. I used to go into Sephora, pick up this bottle, stand there like an idiot for 30 minutes just staring into the beautiful, golden center, and then walk out crying.


And just FYI: It doesn’t smell like sake, really. Not in an overpowering, boozy sense (though there is certainly a time and a place for that. Namely: Christmas holidays.) It doesn’t smell like anything heady or overtly feminine. It mostly smells like angels. Angels, and money, and good taste, and inner peace. It makes your skin feel like hand-churned butter. It makes people lean into you on public transportation and tell you stuff like “You smell like a good dream.” (TRUE STORY, HOW CREEPY IS THAT.) And now it’s available in a $48.00 bottle, and you know what? That is still cray. That is still almost too expensive for bubble bath, but COMPARED TO 80 IT’S FINE. It’s fine, okay? It’s fine. Just trust me. Just slip into your sake bath, hopefully not whilst wearing a culturally inappropriate geisha wig, and dream your big dreams.

We need some soothing bath time today. It’s an exciting, momentous time! But also: that can be hella stressful. So we need some lemon face masks, and some sake baths, and some wishin’ and hopin’ and thinkin’ and prayin’ about the future of our nation. Go vote. Then go take a bath.

You bet your ass that’s what I’ll be doing.

So excited I could pee, (but hopefully not in the bath)


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