An old friend of mine (who happens to covet my naturally blotchy complexion and crows’ feet) suggested that I share my beauty routine with the world so that the poor huddled masses and/or victims of 9/11 and Katrina can also achieve the results of a personal consultation with Dr. Jean-Louis Sebagh (Internationally Acclaimed Anti-Aging Specialist and personal guru to Cindy Crawford)-without having to choose between (1) feeding their children, or (2) looking invigorated and ready to take on life after 40 like me. So here it goes, huddled masses:
My facial regime consists of a powdered Tide w/Bleach 1 scrub used in concert with a $5 Conair Mircro-dermabrasion tool 2 that looks like a cross between a kitchen pot-scrubber brush and a Dremel (which I actually managed to pick up for 99 cents at Big Lots not too long ago).
I’ve been told it can also be used to strip old varnish from the corners of chifforobes. My “t zone” perpetually looks like the peeling decolletage of a sun-worshiping 75 y/o albino Florida retiree. I use very expensive “Patty Labelle Facial Moisturizing Whip” purchased from an East Oakland Koreo-Mexican tienda. I highly suspect they produce it in the back room by mixing pork fat and Vasoline (with a dash of Lipton tea leaves for luxurious aromatherapy) then slapping on a photocopied label made from a 1975 LaBelle cassette tape cover and some Avery labels at the FEDEX-Kinkos across the street. I suppose I should be suspicious of the “whip” given (1) it always comes in a different sized jar with faint remnants of other product labeling like Dippity-Do and Dark ‘n’ Lovely, and (2) there is no list of ingredients.
At this point in the recipe, I’m sure you can tell that I am a very organized person given that (1) I keep the receipts from my Big Lots purchases and (2) I use parenthetical numbering in my writing despite how annoying it is to the casual reader.
My doctor keeps insisting that my skin issues can be resolved by drinking more water (real water, not the water in Diet Coke and Diet Redbull). What an idiot. If I were into diet and exercise, I wouldn’t be the poor, lonely, puffy-faced, prematurely-aged dermatological nightmare diabetic he sees before him each month to earn his negotiated $75 managed-care fee. And as a consultant myself, I believe he is a double-idiot for delivering sound advice that might actually CURE his patient. I would never risk putting myself out of business like that.
- Also note that Tide w/Bleach is an excellent 3:1 shampoo/conditioner/bodywash for when your application of the 99 cent hair color from the clearance bin at Big Lots results in more of a “Roy Orbison” than “Hugh Jackman” overall tone. This little secret I learned from my mother who herself learned it from a Nashville “hairstylist to the stars” in the 70s named Rick (think straight Chaz Dean of Wen Haircair). Thanks, Mom — my future scalp cancer and I adore you! ↩
- Also note that my insomnia gives me a near encyclopedic knowledge of late night infomercial offerings. Combined with frequent Ambien blackouts, I have amassed a garage full of innovative, not-sold-in-stores products. Yes, I have even tried the No-No. It actually removes hair, but it also leaves one smelling like a public hospital burn unit. ↩