I’ve really gone and done it now. I got a sunburn without leaving the house. You would think, at my age, I’d know all there is to know about skin protection, since I’m a fair-skinned, Irish redhead. I survived the pre-sunscreen 1960s, made it through the ’70s without sauteeing myself on a tinfoil mat with baby oil on the dorm roof, and got through nearly 30 years of parenting without sun tattoos of crumpled up potato chip bags on my back.
Then I used a sample facial mask and burned the bejesus out of my face.
I found it in my bathroom drawer. The one where I throw all the free samples I get. I’m a Beauty Insider at Sephora and almost every time I go to the checkout, they let me pick a free gift, either a tiny lipstick in a color too weird to charge money for, a microscopic vial of cologne, or a mini tube of moisturizing beauty enhancer of one type or another.
So the drawer starts out with all of that and then, like a super magnet, starts to draw in stuff from all over. The magnetic pull of that drawer is the only logical explanation as to why I can go to a wine tasting and come home with a free sample of a face moisturizer, to a celebrity chef event and walk out with anti-wrinkle cream, and to a book sale and end up with a clarifying mask. What happened to chocolates and tiny flashlights?
Last Sunday, I felt the need to beautify myself, so I put on Crest Whitening Strips. I was looking to maximize the 30 minutes, so I rooted through the drawer and decided to put on a mask that promised to revitalize, renew, antioxidize my skin and generally make me look like a 20-year-old movie star. It was from Arbonne and I have no idea where I’d gotten it, since I have about a dozen friends and family who sell Arbonne. I spread it all over my face and sat down to answer some emails.
About 15 minutes into it, I thought, “Wow, this mask is generating heat! Must be really working.” Although working at what, I had no idea. I’m not even sure what results I was hoping to get from the thing. It was free and I was using it up. It couldn’t hurt.
Or could it?
At minute 20 my face was feeling prickly and tingly. At minute 25 I could have warmed my coffee by setting my cup on the bridge of my nose. Still it never occurred to me to rinse the thing off. I waited the full 30 minutes, got rid of the Crest strips and started to rinse my face. Then I looked in the mirror. I was burnt.
I know this was supposed to make me look smokin’ hot, but this is . . . never mind. Even I couldn’t find any humor in what my face looked like. It was a dark beigeish red. The Big 64 Crayola color would have been Mahogany. Splashing cold water on it felt good but didn’t really help.
I started to think that something cool and soothing might help. Something refreshing. Didn’t I get a Cucumber Mint Mud Mask from the car show last spring?, I thought as I rooted through the drawer.
I don’t deserve to look good.
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If you liked this, you’ll also like:
Beauty Tips From Religious Extremists When your youth fools the FBI, there have to be divine intervention involved.
I, Too, Feel Bad About My Neck I think I speak for all of us when I say Nora Ephron was spot on.
Am I Beautiful Yet? I guess I’m using beauty products now.
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Read more of Diane’s Just Humor Me columns here. Sign up for our weekly e-newsletter to get new blog post notifications. And if you like her blog, you’ll love her book, Home Sweet Homes: How Bundt Cakes, Bubble Wrap, and My Accent Helped Me Survive Nine Moves.
