So, I was rearranging my bathroom cabinet, again (because who doesn’t like finding expired products?), and stumbled upon the mix of helter-skelter skincare items I’ve been slapping on my face. My updated skincare ‘routine’—if you can even call it that—is all unsponsored. Like, no hashtag ad here. Just pure trial and acne error.
First off, let me tell you about this honey and oat face wash. It smells like breakfast cereal and apparently honey is supposed to be some mystical skin healer? Who knows—I’m just rolling with it. And of course, I have my trusty witch hazel toner which I overuse, to be honest. If my skin could roll its eyes, it’d probably beg for a break. But hey, my acne can’t fire me for over-exfoliating (fingers crossed).
I also roped in this green tea moisturizer. No fancy brands, just some no-name tube that promised me it was good for oily skin. Spoiler: My face still shines brighter than a reflective vest. But I’m loyal to my cheap and cheerful products. To balance it out, there’s a clay mask that leaves me looking like Shrek but feels oh-so-divine once peeled off. The satisfaction is almost therapeutic (you know, if you ignore the tiny panic attack as you peel it off thinking it’s ripping your soul out).
Anyway, the whole process got me thinking about my hair too. It’s like it sensed my brainwaves and thought, “Oh hey, remember me? The other dark spot in your inconsistent self-care game?” Yeah, trying to incorporate any form of hair care into my day feels like I’m trying to solve a Rubik’s cube. So, I start ranting to my reflection in the bathroom: Why is it that the same shampoo that’s supposed to cleanse also makes me smell as though I took a dip in a garden of artificial flowers?
Not to mention the dry shampoo debacle—if you’ve ever gotten an unexpected snowstorm from a misjudged spray, you know what I’m talking about. I think I’ll end up looking like those white-topped mountains on a shampoo commercial (the Photoshop one, not real life).
At least my skin has given up resisting my witch hazel obsession, though, and started to look as if it might surrender to the moisturizer. Small victories, I guess.
The thing is, whether it’s my skincare routine or venturing into foreign territory like hair products everyone claims are ‘game-changers’ (mind you, they haven’t changed my game yet), I find it all one big, confusing experiment. When it works, it’s like magic. When it doesn’t, well, back to the drawing board it is, with maybe a bit more cynicism and definitely a bit more chocolate.