The World is Quick to Point the Finger at Women and Scream: “Vapid!”

I use Bactine spray on my face

I’m used to having a life where there is little to no time (or product) to spare.

Before these few months of working from home and recovery (which hasn’t felt very recovery-ey yet), I would wipe my face down with Ponds in parking lots at work, or covet others’ ability to spend a simple $5 on a refill of something while pinching pennies for gas, to or from. I’ve had friends who’ve gifted me skincare and savor every drop. I think that makes my connections to the rituals all the more meaningful. As if each product is a kind word continuing onward from a friend.

It’s no secret by now that I research that with a lifetime tested to its truth. A grandmother swore by baby oil and a Buff Puff daily, for example, so I’m gathering my own evidence slowly. I love baby oil as a whole (a la Vera Wang) and am trying to use the gel version on my body more (when I can bend or twist) because dance trained me to skip body lotion for years as it made the floor slippery for others.

I try to give myself a “facial” once a week. I shave, then use a “zombie” type tightening mask (either S1004 or Desert Oasis by Proot); wiping with a damp cloth. A new thing I’m trying and thus can’t speak to you yet is micro needling. So far on one multitasking time of the week only (lackadaisical conversation).

I use Bactine spray on the cheap arse roller before and after. I’m like the Dad with Windex in my “Big Fat Greek Wedding”. My adherence to Bactine sounds silly… but for me, it’s a sacred product that somehow works for so many things. I used it to cut down on chin breakouts during masked moments of the pandemic, to clean makeup brushes (I no longer use brushes because I’m lazy but still) and onward.

Perhaps most embarrassing: I am still playing with sleeping with a wig headband at night if I remember (forehead stickers end up doing me dirty with developed adhesive reactions). I hope it’ll help with morning headaches, but that’s a whole deoxygenated side story. I’ve been trying to use my first ever red light for 30 minutes a day when doing work after thinking it was at total crock. I was hoping it’d help my seasonally affected affect and back wounds in some way. My lamp was a $20-something frugal holiday find from Amazon so… placebos a plenty?

I’m honestly worried about sharing honest rituals here, because the world is quick to point the finger at women and scream “Vapid!”

Still, I find it sort of frustrating when the metaphoric J.Los of the world say “I drink a lot of water” when asked about their habits, and no one just speaks bluntly.

Here is me doing the most… bluntly.

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