The early 30s glow up
In the lead up to my 30th birthday I decided to overhaul my skin regime, somehow believing that as the clock struck midnight on the 15th September 2017, the hopeless worries of my life would reveal themselves on my face. Wrinkles etched into the skin with the permeance of a scar.
My concerns were of course, unfounded, but it was too late - I was seduced by the lure of luxury skincare. Having swapped the supermarket own brand wipes for creamy cleanser and flannel facecloths, and lathering my face in Estée Lauder Advanced Night Repair every evening before bed, I was in deep.
In recent years I have felt invisible at times. I no longer look as good as I once did: my clothes are plainer, my body more rounded, I have lost a sparkle that I had as a younger woman. And so, my skin has become my currency. I want it to glow from within, to look plump and hydrated and dewy. I want kindly cashiers to feign surprise when they examine my ID as I buy a bottle of Prosecco and a packet of loo roll.
Alongside the actual visible benefits of a routine, there’s the therapeutic theatre of it all. A little bit of time, every night, where I am devoted to myself. Wax on, wax off. As my makeup melts away so too do the stresses of the day, the light and refreshing smell of cleanser as a scent-track to the great unwind. And a mask, well a mask is pure meditation. Ten to thirty minutes of enforced idling as a buffet of acids shed away the years.
A jade roller kept in the freezer may not do much more than cool down a hot face, but in today’s hectic and often horrifying world, I cherish the chance to stand in front of the mirror, methodically and mindlessly rolling away my blemishes, and my troubles.