There comes a time in every woman’s life when she realizes her husband is connected to a lot of well-endowed Facebook friends under the alias ‘Shazam Man!’ she’s not getting any younger, trades her engagement ring for a boob job breaks free from the constraints of social judgment, and installs a stripper pole in her bedroom starts to shave her face.
Or at least she should. Shave her face, that is. Stripping is pretty much all about daddy issues, flexibility, and cash flow.
Take me as an example. Not for the parts above I can’t discuss in public any of the stuff crossed out in the first paragraph, but for a hairy face.
One day, I was lounging on the sofa in a killer pair of Jimmy Choos trying to figure out the horrendous stench coming from my son Taylor’s backpack, when my daughter, Grace, made an interesting statement.
“Mommy, your face is furry,” she said.
“My face is not furry,” I replied as I attempted to pry open Taylor’s lunch thermos while simultaneously resisting the urge to throw up in my mouth.
“Yes it is. You look all fuzzy and stuff.”
“You wanna see fuzz? Check out these meatballs,” I said.
“They’re not as hairy as you mom!”
“Well, you look like Mike Tyson,” I replied.
This, in fact, was true. She’d just had eight teeth pulled a couple of days before.
Since I’d pretty much laid down the best “In your face!” comeback ever on my 10 year-old daughter who gave me a serious “oh Mom, you’re such a loser” look had no idea who Mike Tyson was, I was feeling totally righteous. But I was also feeling a little premenstrual vulnerable, because out of the mouths of babes comes the truth, weird songs that can win you a bunch of money on YouTube or get you arrested, and stuff like that.
Anyway, as soon as I freed myself from the binding constraints of the ankle biters got my little darlings off to school, I checked the mirror. Closely. To my surprise, dismay, and genuine horror, I found that Grace was 100% right. The entire side of my face looked alarmingly like the back-end of my dog.
I immediately called 9-1-1 to report an emergency my friend, Lisa, the best paramedical esthetician in Denver, to let her know my hair of the dog philosophy to hangovers had morphed into something literal I had turned into a werewolf.
She just laughed the laugh of a confident, beardless woman and told me I needed to dermaplane.
According to a random website with a super-cool design, dermaplaning is a highly effective procedure for removing the outermost layer of dead skin cells. Dermaplaning will also remove the layer of vellous hair that often covers the face, commonly known as “peach fuzz,” which traps dirt and oil. The treatment gives the skin a smoother appearance. The removal of the outer layer of skin cells also allows for better penetration and absorption of both pharmaceutical and cosmeceutical products. These skin cells are no longer a protectant, but are a barrier for other procedures and/or products.
That sounds pretty much right on to me, so after informing Grace she can no longer take piano lessons finding some extra cash for my treatments, I feel just as qualified as the neighbor who constantly hits you up to buy girl scout cookies skin care products you’ll never use that promise you the ability to time travel, to offer my advice.
As a self-certified expert, I’d like to debunk several myths about skin care you may have read on the late-night chat room you haven’t told ‘Shazam-Man” about Facebook.
1. Some skin care remedies not only remove dead cells, buy can actually resurrect the dead.
This, in fact, isn’t true.
The woman on the left supposedly applied some freaky bovine hormone-enhanced cream a hydrating scrub to improve her skin’s appearance and achieve the look on the right. There’s just one problem. They aren’t the same person. I’m willing to bet my CSI home starter kit that the hand on the left is my great grandmother’s. I have the exact same bulging veins skin tone. My great grandmother made the best fried okra in the state of Georgia, mowed her lawn at the age of ninety-three, and dipped Bruton Scotch Snuff until the day she died. Which was in 1992.
2. Anyone capable of giving you toenail fungus from a dirty set of clippers can successfully treat your skin.
This, also, is not true.
The process of dermaplaning involves the use of a surgical knife. It’s kind of like a custom-made shiv scalpel for fine lines, wrinkles, and whiskers.
If your manicurist tells you she just purchased a cosmetology license from an infomercial dermaplanes, and pulls out a Bic Single Blade Lady disposable razor? Run. I made the mistake of cheating on Lisa with another recreational liar skin care specialist who ended up making my face look like this.
That’s road rash on my face inflicted by a supposed expert (not Lisa) who dug so deeply during a dermaplane treatment that I thought she was trying to kill me reach my soul. I think she may have used a Lady Bic but I’m not sure because I couldn’t watch. The feeling of my own blood coursing down the side of my face in rhythm to Enya’s “Sail Away” was an experience I never want to repeat.
3. It’s a good idea to purchase skin care treatments with a Groupon.
Please refer to the previous two paragraphs.
4. Proper skin care will improve your sex life.
Maybe, but check out the items crossed out in paragraph one or the soft porn section on Netflix for a sure thing.
5. A well-planned and properly executed skin care regiment will reverse internal damage from heavy recreational drug use.
These two women aren’t even remotely related. Just kidding. That’s Tawney Kitean after and before becoming addicted to prescription pills. Here’s a freebie piece of advice that has nothing to do with unwanted facial hair but will help you keep your teeth. Don’t do drugs.
So thanks to Lisa, I no longer have to endure “Chopsticks” being played over and over on a keyboard. I also have super-smooth skin.
If you’d like the best shave and skin care in the state of Colorado, visit Lisa at:
If you’d like to install a stripper pole in your bedroom, check this site out:
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