out damned spot
The picture says it all I’m afraid. Right now I’d rather you focus on my clavicles, rather than my face. For some unknown reason, perhaps it’s the clichéd ‘change of seasons’, my skin has gone into a furious teenage regression, except this time there’s the added bonus of thirtysomething wrinkles and severe surface dehydration to compliment the party of blocked pores and hairline blemishes…OH, woe is me.
In my first line of attack (slash desperation) I went rooting through the beauty cupboard and turned up a tube of Dermalogica Active Moist. The blurb says it’s ‘for skin with excess oil production’ – tick – but contains sheer silk amino acids as well as lemon, cucumber and burdock extracts to soothe my stressed out dermis and deliver much-needed moisture. It’s tempting to throw any concoction of ‘solution’ products at problem skin and I’ve found myself working on a process of elimination basis with the mounting list of formulas I’m using on a daily basis (7 at last count…) to get to the bottom of my suddenly congested T-zone. A possible culprit is a cheapo long-lasting concealer – the more I use it the worse the problem gets requiring me to plaster on more to hide the worsening redness and blemishes, futile, see? And, even though I’ve read in various sources that it won’t block pores, I’ve suddenly become suspicious of the jojoba oil I slather on nightly. Maybe that’s whats giving me the mother-of-all blocked pores of the the kind I haven’t suffered with for a good 15 years. Either way, I am not in any way, shape or form resembling a beauty editor right now. That is to say, my skin is well and truly pissed off. Harrumph.
Find this image at the interestingly titled blowkissesnotboys.tumblr.com.