This is not a beauty blog. I am not a beauty blogger. I promise you I never will be. I work in a preschool, which means my everyday existence involves early alarms, long commutes, long hours, paint, glue, glitter, and, of course, the many bodily fluids of the little ones. I love them, but I do not love their puke. As such, my general morning routine works as follows: wake up about 30-40 minutes before I have to catch the train, think about taking a shower but decide not to, pull on a t-shirt and yoga pants, throw my hair up in a claw clip to minimize the fact that I probably should have taken a shower, make myself some tea, and rush out the door. I literally never even think about makeup in the morning. Why would I even consider wearing nice clothes when nine out of ten days involve some degree of food/snot/watercolor stains? Who am I here to impress? The four-year-olds? Sometimes, if I have an audition right after work, I'll put on eyeliner and mascara and lipstick before I leave, and all the kids are straight-up stunned. I've received such high praise as, "What's that black stuff on your eyes?" and "You look kinda weird!" This is all to say that, in my daily life, I don't have the time or the patience to think about beauty products. Would I like to look better every day? Of course, said every person ever. Am I willing to sacrifice sleep to a skin-care regimen or my Modcloth dresses to reckless, paintbrush-wielding tinies? Absolutely not. And I'm mostly okay with this existence. It works for me. Mostly. Except that, I'm trying to take better care of myself, remember? And I guess beauty products are a great way to exercise self-care. Or so the Internet tells me. So I thought I would head to the Lush store one day, when I got off work early, just to see if I could find anything that might help me in my quest to make myself feel better. Now, you're talking to a woman who, when in need of bath products, goes to the grocery store and buys the cheapest brand of color-care shampoo and conditioner. So, the sticker shock was pretty real. I was first introduced to Lush products through a gift that, ironically, one of the kids gave to me for Christmas - a bath bomb, plus a small box including shower gel and body conditioner (whatever that was). I tried out the latter, after reading instructions, and it made my skin feel super soft and I loved the smell. So I saved the rest of it for special days. Walking around this store full of bright, candy-scented stuff to slather on your body, I figured, let's just assume this is a special day. Let's assume that it's worth it to buy some expensive, nonessential stuff, for no other purpose than to make me feel good. Over the course of two trips (plus the aforementioned gifts), I acquired seven different Lush products for seven different purposes. And then I thought, 'Why not just use them all at once? Just to see what happens?' So, that was my night. My entire goal? Literally, just to relax. I am terrible at relaxing. So, to that end, I began by pouring myself a glass of sangria and lighting a candle. Because that seems relaxing. Then I turned on Jane the Virgin, got in the tub, and started with the infamous Lush bath bomb. As it was a gift, it did not have a label, but it appeared to be the Fizzbanger. My suspicions were confirmed when little notes with the word "BANG" on them fluttered out. I initially thought they might be temporary tattoos (don't talk to me about logic), and was slightly disappointed when I discovered they weren't. In case you were wondering how much I truly need to divorce myself from a preschool mentality. Watching the bathwater turn from yellowish to blueish to greeny-teal was visually fascinating to me, and it did distract me from the fact that I was being totally unproductive for a little while. I meant to spend more time just luxuriating in the tub, but after the whole ball dissolved, a sneaky feeling of dis-ease began to invade, so I had to actively stave it off. Full disclosure, I had actually set a notebook within arms reach, in case I wanted to work on the shot list for my short film while I "relaxed." But I didn't cave! Instead, I moved on to the next product, a facial cleanser called Coalface which I bought specifically because it was the only one in a small enough chunk to be priced at under six dollars. It really did make my face feel good, and, placebo effect or not, my face still feels softer today. So that's good news! I started using the Pumice Power foot treatment, which involved scrubbing what is basically a sandy bar of soap over my soles, but I don't think I used enough of it - I was worried of running out too quickly. Alas, my weirdly triangle-shaped toe calluses remain. After that, I paused Jane the Virgin, drained the bathtub, and got ready for the shower portion. At this point I had been in the bathroom for about an hour and I figured it was time to deal with my gross hair. I've been having hair problems for a while - my first Lush purchase was an expensive conditioner that I prayed would be the answer to my particular problem of oily-top-half/dry-damaged-bottom-half. I started my shower by ducking out of the shower, drying off my hands, and Googling how to use a Lush shampoo bar - the Jason and the Argan Oil Shampoo Bar, to be precise, which I bought half because I loved the smell of the matching shower gel from my preschooler, half because I appreciated the mythological pun. Solid shampoo was simple enough, followed up by the aforementioned conditioner (American Cream, which actually does do wonders for my worst-of-both-worlds hair) and shower gel (Rose Jam, the scent of my soul). Finally, to close it all out, my "special day" Ro's Argan Body Conditioner, which makes my epidermis feel like it has been entirely saturated with lotion. In short (because this is already way too long to discuss the personal hygiene habits of any individual, barring all Kardashians), I got better at relaxing the longer I did it. And that's consistent with most things, in my experience. I'm a big believer in the idea of deliberate practice - you know, the whole "It takes 10,000 hours of practice to become an expert" thing. When I wanted to be a better writer, I made it a point to do an hour of focused writing every day. When I wanted to learn guitar, I set aside time every week. So, if relaxing doesn't come naturally to me, I guess it makes sense that I just have to practice. Only 9,998 hours to go, right? Additionally: I smell AMAZING today.
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AuthorMy name is Emily Ann Scott, and I'm a writer, actress, filmmaker, teacher, and feminist killjoy. Archives
November 2016
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