I’ve found it. The butchiest face mask in the world. Like, if I was famous, this is the product I would advertise, not because it’s super effective but because it is so. on. brand.
Picture the scene.
I walk out of a car repair shop, wiping my hands on a dirty rag and not smiling because that’s for girls. Cut to the bathroom, where I sneer at the fruity scented masks, possibly clearing them off the shelf into the garbage bin with one almighty swoop. I can do that because I have biceps in this reality and the white tank top I’m wearing proves it.
I proudly replace all the nice pretty bottles with one black box and the tag line rolls.
For when you want your face to smell like a gun.
This should be the next super bowl commercial.
Magnetic face masks are all over YouTube and IG right now and I have zero willpower so I bought this cheap one from Amazon. Yes, it was 3am. Yes, whiskey was involved. You know me so well.
It’s a weird texture and painting it on is more like frosting a cupcake. But then, oh my gosh. You cover the magnet with a tissue and hold it over your skin. Please see the video below.
I’m not a huge fan of bubble masks as I think it feels like tiny spiders racing over my skin. But this is so pleasant! Nicely tickly and just mmm, yes. Like when someone scratches your neck or touches your ears. *dies*
Fun fact, I have super sensitive ears, like my Da. When my parents were arguing my Dad would cover his ears and shout NO NO NO, because if he didn’t, Sneaky Mam would rub them and therefore win the argument. Sneaky, sneaky.
The mask comes off really easily which is actually sad because I want that sensation to last forever.
And afterwards, your face smells like a gun.
It smells like car parts and blood and pennies and while you might not enjoy that, I found it enchanting. There is an oily residue which you’re supposed to massage in, or in my case, run around yelling SMELL MY FACE I SMELL SO WEIRD.
It doesn’t vaccum your pores or any nonsense like that, but it feels really good. Yah, it’s skintertainment and not for pros. But I get tired of the retinols that smell like chemotherapy and the essences that blur into a watery puddle in my memory. It’s so… adult and sometimes I want to play.
This is so much fun and I loved using it. Butch recommended!
See, Sober Me read this amazing, well written and thoughtful throw down of the Hanacure All In One Facial. Sober Me winced. Sober Me took Queen T‘s advice onboard and moved on.
But Drunk Me. What a dick.
Drunk Me was watching Whip It, again and thinking that Drew Barrymore would LOVE ME IF SHE KNEW ME. That led to looking at Drew’s Instagram, which led that drunk asshole to this picture.
Yes! The EXACT SAME PICTURE Queen T used, except I didn’t think, shit, there’s that shitty mask I read a review about, I thought… I love you, Drew, and I always will.
The next day I checked my email and I’d bought the Hanacure starter pack for $29 (ONE USE!) plus international shipping. Oh, and I spent £14 on customs charges as they overstated the value on the package.
Firstly, I don’t think anything you do or say at 3.13am should be legally binding. Secondly, this company are horrible to get hold of. I emailed them asking how to cancel (a dick move but! 3.13am!) and never got a response. I emailed when my package was marked as delivered but I didn’t have it. No response. I’d email them about the fact they marked the package too high and I had to pay additional customs but even I know when I’m beat.
Then, as usual, I made it worse.
Note – I don’t have super sensitive skin. You’re supposed to mix up the vial and the little pot, then spread the curdled mixture on your face with the little brush. Leave it for thirty minutes, boom.
Except I had to safe word out after twenty minutes. Let’s just get this over with.
My skin is not perfect in the first picture. It certainly wouldn’t be the picture posted by most beauty/skincare bloggers. But it’s okay.
The after pictures are not okay.
I am too vain to post the picture I sent my IG crew privately the next day but it is a train wreck. I look like a sunburnt, shiny cross between Lindsay Logan’s mugshots and a lizard. With zits.
Are you fucking KIDDING ME.
Okay, yes, I only have myself to blame. But this product right here is everything I hate about the skincare industry.
1. Overly expensive – $29 IS THREE HOURS PAY FOR THE AVERAGE FAST FOOD WORKER. Before taxes. I am actually disgusted with myself.
2. Hyped to fuck – yes, Drew, I’m mad. But call me, let’s talk it out.
3. Shit customer service – reply to your email. There you go, that’s advice from someone who has worked in client management all her career. Reply to your damn email instead of posting celebrity pictures to Instagram.
4. It hurts and they warn you it will. That’s like dating someone who looks at you from under their eyelashes and murmurs, “I’m not good with relationships… I break a lot of hearts”. You should not be charmed by their honesty. They are telling you they will hurt you. Listen to them, put your underwear on and go home!
5. Nothing about this product is luxe or fun. NOTHING.
6. Most importantly… it doesn’t work, dudes. My skin is fucked up. And don’t tell me it’s purging, because I know more about purging than a lonely girl at boarding school.
If it’s 3.13am where you are and you’re four cocktails down, googling mindlessly until you stumble over my little filth pit of the internet… hello, friend. Don’t buy this. Not because it’s expensive and you have no money, but because it’s self harm in a box. You deserve better. Trust me.
Cards on the table, I am not a Glamglow fan. It strikes me as overpriced and, well, vulgar. Showy, you know? All fur coat, no knickers. Fur coat being Instagram likes, knickers being effective ingredients.
So when these headlines caught my eye, I sighed and decided today was a Getting Dressed Day. For anyone who doesn’t know, Aldi is a discount supermarket chain with an… eclectic range. I like it, it’s like a mad jumble sale every week. An element of surprise and bargains on 5lb cans of pickled cabbage.
The glamglow youthmud costs £49-ish in the UK and the Lacura comes in at a very solid £5.99. Scent is nothing offensive or extraordinary, just Generic Spa. Texture is legit, with this cute brush that comes in the box.
Seeing as this mask was only released today (scoop!) I was a tiny bit nervous about being the canary in the coal mine. I swear, the internet has reduced all my decision-making skills to zero.
But I also don’t see £40-worth of difference. However I did spend most science lessons smoking behind the library so please correct me if I’m wrong.
I used this mask tonight and you know what? I really liked it.
Warning, like Glamglow, this tingles. Very assertively. Oh, and don’t get it in your eye, you amateur! You will want to die. Trust me.
Is it a “facial in a jar”? No. That’s impossible. But my skin is hyper-exfoliated without being a red blotchy mess and a couple of dark patches are definitely lighter. I’ll need to moisturise like a boss to avoid my lizard skin wailing in horror but, overall? I am very impressed.
Now please excuse me, I have a 5lb can of pickled cabbage nearing expiry to get on with.
To the shock of nobody, I can say that I have done a number of very shameful things under the influence of alcohol. For example –
1. Charming a group of six Russian sex workers by announcing LADIES, I AM THE GUARDIAN OF THE INTERNET, YOU ARE WELCOME! on a City roof top bar. They were delightful and kept patting my cheek and saying, handsome malchick, vey handsome.
2. Making my very irritated boss pay for a private dance at a strip bar so Diamond could finish writing out the vegan lasanga recipe we had been talking about. No shame, that lasanga was superb, the trick is to soak the cashews overnight. Listen to Diamond.
3. Being barred from a bar near work for insisting that Nicki Minaj’s Girls Fall Like Dominos be played seventy nine times in a row, as a tribute to my glory. Oh, and yelling that this song had been written to me, personally, a middle aged IT manager.
I know, I am a dick.
However, there is one drunk escapade I am most ashamed of. Gather round, kittens and learn from my mistakes. And please drink responsibly. Because being an obnoxious dick isn’t nice.
I was very unhappy in my last job (understatement of the year). However, so were the rest of my boys so we fell into a pattern of going out on Friday nights to drink the week away and yell motivational statements into each other’s desperate faces. IAN, YOU ARE SO GOOD! SO SO GOOD! FUCK THEM, YOU’RE SO GOOD AND YOU WORK SO HARD, OH MY GOD!
Unfortunately this often meant I was prowling the streets of central London by myself, late at night. Well, 8pm. All my boys had to be home for 9pm or their wives would pack up and move back home with their sister.
On one debauched night I was tripping down Covent Garden, singing a happy little tune under my breath. It went like this.
They are bastards
They are bastards
I wish they’d die
I wish they’d die!
I am lovely
I am lovely
La la la motherfuckers
Good times. I looked up and blinked, dazed. I was in front of the Charlotte Tilbury shop. Dudes, it’s beautiful. I was like Tiny Tim, my face pressed against the glass, watching the beautiful people laugh their beautiful people laughs.
Suddenly, I was in the shop. Oh dear.
The most beautiful woman I have ever seen spoke to me. She was half supermodel, half angel, with an Essex accent and a sales quota. I was putty in her beautifully manicured hands.
Twenty minutes later I was stumbling out of the shop clutching a bag containing ONE SHEET MASK.
ONE SHEET MASK THAT COST EIGHTEEN POUNDS.
Oh, god. And… this is so gross, I can’t even say it. And… I walked straight into a line of people waiting for a free dinner at the local soup kitchen. Clutching an £18 sheet mask I bought because a pretty lady was nice to me.
Advanced white privilege achievement UNLOCKED.
The Charlotte Tilbury mask is pretty fucking hyped up. Lemme quote.
“Darlings, introducing the dry mask of the future! Inspired by the technical innovations of Korean beauty, my Instant Magic Facial DRY Sheet Face Mask, with its revolutionary biomimetic delivery system is the Magic Facial DRY sheet mask of the future! It features ingredients which are clinically proven* to reduce wrinkles, smooth, brighten, lift and hydrate your skin exactly where it needs it. Make all your magic skin wishes come true!“
With sober eyes I can say – bullshit. Red flags-
– “inspired by Korean beauty” aka, we took this and made it more expensive for stupid rich white people.
– “magic” formula aka, does you work in Hogwarts bitch cos if not, why you lying.
– “clinically tested*” = 30 women self reporting isn’t a clinical test, even if you made them wear white coats.
And there is more.
“Because it isn’t a wet formula, it doesn’t harbour bacteria, so you can use this up to 3 times!”
Oh god, really?? Well, £18 over three uses isn’t that bad, right? (No, it is still bad)
So you peel this off your face, with your dirty hands (all hands are dirty, it’s fine) and pop it back in the packet? Fuck off, love. I’ll eat chips that fell on the floor if it was five seconds and nobody is watching but this makes my skin want to crawl off my face.
But yes, I tried it. Welcome to your new nightmare.
Luckily I live texted the experience so I can just cut and paste my real time reaction.
I only lasted ten minutes before ripping it off. It had started to heat up and I genuinely thought I would have a panic attack.
The “magic formula” meat grease had melted, running into my eyes. See how red my lips were? That’s not normal. My whole face was red, sore and greasy. I looked deep fried, the grease pooling around my eyes and in my (suddenly huge) pores.
I may have sobbed a little because that’s when it started to hurt. Really hurt.
Look at this ingredients list. I assume one of them is lard. Again, total red flag I ignored.
Question. What was the last sheet mask you used that had hydrogenated vegetable oil in the first quarter of ingredients? Let me know.
It took three weeks for my skin to stop chafing and calm down. I can say that this sheet mask is the worst thing I’ve ever done to my face, and that includes every single drunken bad decision I’ve ever made.
Worst thing is, six months later and I still have the fucking packet. Because I’m Northern and it feels like throwing money away. But after reliving this experience, I’m happy to say I finally put this “magic” dry sheet mask where it belongs.
Hey! Listen, I have a treat for you. It’s an ice cream sundae. Yeah, the real kind, with layers of fruit and cream and a cherry on top. I even put in a little cocktail umbrella. It’s yours! For free!
Oh, apart from a third, which I’m going to scrape into the garbage. Oops, sorry, your cherry fell in and your umbrella is kinda floppy now. What do you mean, you wanted the whole thing? Tough, that’s the way of the world, kitten.
See, this is how I feel about sleep. You have one beautiful life, full of sweetness and delight. But then you have to… give away a third of EVERY DAY? I am sorry, but there is a word for that where I am from and it is thievery. Sleep is a scam. It is boring and I reject it. Nothing good ever happened when you were sleeping.
The ice cream theory of life is why I reject and refuse sleep as much as possible – also because I have insomnia and as we all know, there is a dignity in rejecting the fuck-boi before he rejects you. This isn’t healthy but HI HAVE WE MET. One day I’ll tell you about the exciting time I hallucinated because I hadn’t slept for three days. It’s a riot!
Those of you who have kids, you think it’s hard making a three year old sleep? Try making a pissed off thirty five year old with a phone in her hand drift off. Good luck. Every night I need the following – a fan for white noise, an eye mask for utter darkness, a lovely Russian woman whispering about folding towels in my ears and pharmaceuticals. This works. Sometimes.
The ONLY good thing about sleeping is sleep masks. I am a fan. I have convinced myself that they are magic and if I don’t lie down and sleep they won’t work. I’ve tried dozens but sweetheart, we have a winner.
Please let me introduce to you, the Huxley Secret of Sahara Sleep Mask.
I purchased this mask from BeautyinHanguk as I have very little self control. I love products that look like this, you know? Simple and gorgeous. Even the tag line speaks to me.
“great things never came from comfort zones”
I had high expectations and dudes, I was not disappointed. You know it’s good when you’re frantically DMing people on Instagram, as you pee, to report in (sorry dudes).
The ingredient list is solid AF. I was slightly concerned about the walnut shell powder, but I can’t feel it.
The scent is, well. You know when you were little and there was that one teacher who was way too glamourous to be hanging out with you brats? The one everyone was in love with (shout out Miss Murray, holla!). Other teachers smelt like coffee and cigarettes and grim determination, but this teacher smelt like… a grown up lady.
It’s not floral or citrus or woody, but it is kind of all of those things. I love it.
Check out this texture. I mean. That is a fucking delight and I want it all over my face.
Best of all, I woke up this morning looking like I’d had eight hours sleep after a day of green juicing instead of three hours sleep after drinking vodka and talking shit online.
It’s super hydrating so best for my lizard people friends and I have had real life confirmation my cheeks are smoother, clearer and plumper.
I don’t usually review single products because I am lazy but this? This isn’t a review, it’s a love letter. Screw Holy Grail, this is the pot of the gold at the end of the rainbow. I can’t see why I’d ever stray. Please leave us now. We are going back to bed.
I’m torn on the concept of subscription boxes. On one hand, presents for me? Fuck yeah! On the other, how much gold to shit ratio are we talking? And why does every subscription box come with a generic black mascara and a fruit scented handcream?
However, I am totally in love with the Latest In Beauty subscription box. I pick the Beauty Guru monthly box, mainly because the idea of me being in any way referred to as a Beauty Guru makes me smirk. It’s £18.00 for nine products and the best thing is that you pick the products! You could have, like, nine generic black mascaras if you wanted! Continue reading “latest in beauty review”
A quick round up of products I finished in April 2017! Clockwise from the top… Skin Food rice mask – oh, so basic. Physical exfoliants, how very 1995. *rolls eyes* But I liked it a lot!
Repurchase? Fuck yeah
Sephora Supreme Cleansing Oil – FINALLY. IT’S OVER. I bought this during a trip to Paris, in a frenzy of excitement. It doesn’t emulsify, it stings and it made my face sad. I used it in the shower on my magnificent body and it is finally finished.
Repurchase? I’m dumb, I’m not that dumb. Naw.
Banila Clean It Zero, Biore 2015 sunscreen, Cosrx Hyaluronic Acid Intensive Cream – omg such rare and undervalued products! But I love them.
Repurchase – yas queen.
Sunday Riley Good Genes – I bought a sample of this because it’s so so spendy. And I’m glad I did because this fucker tore my face to shreds. Also, it smells like the underside of an eleven year old boy’s watch, or the butt of a nurse after a double shift in the emergency unit. I actually woke up in the night wondering if Death had come for me because the stench was so bad. Very bad no good (for me).
Repurchase – there are cheaper ways to self harm
Liz Earle exfoliator – yeah, I was trying to get through some old products. It’s fine. *shrug*
Repurchase – tbh, I’m not even sure I bought this. Where did it come from? Did Liz sneak it in herself?
Peter Thomas Roth masks – oh my god, I have such a love for PTR. This month I finally used up the three Sephora minis. In order of adoration, from restraining order to mere obsession – rose stem cell bio repair mask, pumpkin enzyme mask, cucumber mask. The rose one is what I used to repair my screaming face after the Sunday Riley fiasco.
Repurchase? Sure. When I’m a millionaire. *cries quietly*
Oskia Radiance mask – dudes. This smells like Turkish Delight, no joke. It’s creamy and buttery and plumping and yes, I’d drink it in a smoothie.
Repurchase – fucking A yeah
Cosrx 96% snail mucin – another rare product, worthy of a 4,000 word review. Or, not. But yeah, this is one of the products I’d stockpile in case of a nuclear attack. Pretty sure it would sort my radiation burns no problem.
Repurchase – duh
L’Oreal Pure Clay Glow Mask – usually L’Oreal makes me roll my eyes but this actually delivers. Hypothetically, if I’d spent the night before drinking tequila in a bar and woken up in a stranger’s garden (not a euphemism), this would make me look like a human being instead of a pathetic waste of skin. But that’s hypothetical.
Repurchase? Yes and I’m not even ashamed. Well, I’m ashamed about the garden incident. Well, I’m not really. I should be. Anyway. Moving on!
EDITED 15th May to put back the formatting, cheers WordPress, appreciate it.
Living in the UK isn’t a utopia, you know. Sure, we have the National Health Service, which provides free medical care to anyone regardless of income. Yeah, we gave the world a couple of cool people like Shakespeare and this Northern band called the Beatles. Oh, true, while we may not all love our robotic overlord Prime Minster, we aren’t run by a terrifying screaming Cheeto who thought the Handmaid’s Tale was full of great, really good, superb ideas.
But really, it’s hard sometimes. For example, when I want to spend my money on frivolous gloop to smear on my face skin, I… I… I sometimes have to get on a bus.
Let me tell you. If I ever hear the phrase, “your hair is so short, it must be so easy to style!!!11” ONE MORE TIME… innocent people will suffer.
No, my hair is not fucking easy to style.
Do you think anything about this (points dramatically to self) is easy?? HAHAHAH.
But! I love my hair so much. When it’s good, it’s. So. Fucking. Good. I used to have long hair up until 2-3 years ago (story behind that another time!) and I looked like a middle aged geography substitute teacher. Hey kids, wanna buy some drugs?
So I don’t mind working at it. Cos when it’s good, freshly cut and kinda quiffy I feel like a boss.
Example of good hair
Example of bad hair and also bad brows, fixed now!
How do I achieve this apparently effortless mess? Let me tell you.
1. Getting it cut all. The. Fucking. Time. Luckily my best friend, the Magnificent Femme manages most of my life, including making my hair appointments and also ensuring I arrive more or less on time. I am so pathetically grateful for this, you have no idea.
2. Get a really fucking good barber. I’ve just moved to Cut Throat London and they are the boss. I have no worries that I’ll walk out with something dreadful like a… pixie cut (shudder).
3. Get used to using a lot of product. Get used to buying shit and it not working and you screaming into your fist in the bathroom. And once you find your products, lock that shit down. Do not mess with a good line up. Speaking of…
Don’t be silly, I don’t use all these at once! Haha. Silly. Just four at a time. Ahem. Yeah, I do have back pain.
Next I’ll take you through the line up and why I’ll never change of any of these products.