The Endless Reflection of Confusing Beauty


Here’s the story of slippers, 2014, and my face.

The presence of new slippers often catapults me both into a world of drunken stupor and into the ceiling. I don’t drink alcohol but I certainly looked drunk as I tried to acclimatise to my new slippers. One thing you’ll always get at Christmas: slippers. Which is okay, because my old ones were incredibly holy. In the ‘full of holes’ sense, not the ‘Biblical’ sense. But they always make the padding incredibly thick, and I’m tall already. It’s like walking around on stilts. My walk can best be described as a drunken one. And they’re springy, too. I’m really hoping I won’t need to jump anytime soon, or else when I land, I will bounce straight back up and through the ceiling…

I also got a lot of what I’d call ‘smelly stuff’. Deodorant, face stuff, shower gel, shampoos – even soap. I think people may be trying to tell me something. And the face stuff – my word! How do women keep track of all this! Oh come now, women do have a tendency to buy many beauty products, and I’m sure many men do, too, but this is completely alien to me. I have face wash, revitalising moisture balm, face scrub, active face scrub and regular moisturiser. What the hell do I do with all this? Combined, that’s 16 fluid ounces of stuff I don’t understand. Sure, it gives instructions on the back, but it doesn’t say, ‘Hey! Did you get me for Christmas off a relative you barely see? This is what I’m for…’

It’s times like these one could really do with a sister. Dudes don’t ask their mother about beauty products. Well, maybe if ones mother is under 50, but most mothers over 50 want their child to marry a nice young girl, move into the posh suburbs, have at least five children – at least three must be girls – and drive about in the latest trendy Mercedes and have something for the kids, too. Probably a Mercedes because you’ll give it to your daughter when she turns 18 because she’ll probably be called Mercedes. Mothers like that often see their son using moisturising cream as a slippery slope to a realisation that the son in question may be of a ‘different persuasion’. Those mothers come from a different age. You can’t talk to them without fanning the flames of ignorance. “Aye, well, fine, do what you want – it’s the ‘modern way’.” Well, I would’ve substituted ‘modern’ for ‘correct’ but there we are…

I couldn’t even ask a female friend because I have no friends and as for a girlfriend? Well, gee, that’s never gonna happen. Leaves me with Google but Google is like all these modern shops. There are too many options. You put anything into the search box and you’ll get what, 30,000 hits? 30,000! I only want one. So you click on a couple, and every single time, every single webpage gives different advice. They share nothing in common! Well, gee, what the heck do I do? Use my own judgment? Have you met my judgment? It’s pretty shoddy. I do understand these products have something to do with the face. But the information on the packaging is mind-numbingly useless…

On the front – packed with eight essential oils. Erm, so? Ooh, rehydrates the skin. Wouldn’t water do that job? ‘A man’s best friend’. It’s a frickin’ moisturiser! It’s not a frickin’ puppy! On the back – ‘Our number one rule is hope for the best, plan for the worst. With your face, it’s all in the planning’. It’s like a bloody fortune cookie giving me life advice! ‘BUAV Approved’. What is that? Turns out, it’s ‘British Union for the Abolition of Vivisection’, verifying it wasn’t tested on animals. Well that’s good, but IT DOESN’T TELL ME WHAT THE GODDAMN PRODUCT IS FOR!

The presence of BUAV actually makes me suspicious. There must have been a time when this product was tested on animals, otherwise, why would it be there? It’s like going to a friend’s house during the plague. And on his front door, there’s a sign – ‘No plague in here’. Well, that’s odd. Surely one would only put that on the door to dispel the rumours that your mate still has the plague. Otherwise, it’s completely nonsensical. This could mean that there’s a pig out there with incredibly good skin. And I have tasted a lot of tender pork in recent weeks. I’m now suspicious of products that don’t have it.

I’d feel awful if I used a product that didn’t have something against all this cruelty on it. But you just don’t know what you’re putting on your face these days, do you? But, you know, it’s difficult. We might all profess to prefer what’s on the inside of a person, their character, but looks do play a part. A receptionist isn’t gonna get a job if he or she isn’t absolutely gorgeous. Can be the same for department stores, although I am starting to see more and more ‘normal’s’ working in them. And it’s the same when you’re at a drinking establishment or at work – the thing that sparks a romance is looks. You need all these beauty products to stand a chance in this little world of ours.

You can say that you shouldn’t engage in this dangerous game but unless everyone did that, it wouldn’t work. You’d get left behind. So I think I will use these products, this facial wash and moisture balm. Not to impress the world, but to impress myself. And I have other things to help, too. I got four canisters of deodorant. Four body wash things for use in the shower, some of which double up as shampoo and yet more facial wash. Well, they’ve put just about everything you could ever need on these modern mobile phones, so I guess they’re now doing it with shower products. I also got two lots of shaving cream tubes and some conditioner. Which is superfluous because one of the shower products is also a conditioner. It’s baffling, isn’t it?

I don’t know if you got this message yet, readers, but I’m not exactly knowledgeable on beauty products. Sometimes you wish you had the cojones to leave it all behind and find a new home in the wilderness miles away from anywhere. No pressures of the modern world. And then there are the other times when you see an immediate future here, at home, that starts off exciting but slowly becomes a monotonous hell of daily grime until you turn into a puddle of goo, alone and with no legacy. And then there are other times when you try to infuse that future with magic but then you get claustrophobic and frightened because it goes against your ideals, but those ideals will only lead to the second option, which is the only option you’re physically capable of living. And then there’s the ‘now’, which is an endless limbo of limbo-ing endlessness.

I’m very tired, readers. It’s been a long, grey and dull year. When I look back, all I can think of is all the people we lost and the countless tragedies that befell us. And all I can think of is trying desperately to cling on to a flicker of light. I think we may have just managed to do that. I think this year has been rough on all of us, so I sincerely hope 2015 is a lot brighter and that you all have a very good year ahead.

Oh, and whilst I’ve been writing this, I’ve just noticed out of the corner of my eye a green tub of liquid. I also got that for Christmas.

You won’t be surprised to read that it’s a facial wash…

American author and humorist, Samuel ‘Mark Twain’ Clemens (1835-1910), once said: “New Year’s is a harmless annual institution, of no particular use to anybody save as a scapegoat for promiscuous drunks, and friendly calls and humbug resolutions.”

Peace Out :|:

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this post. You can leave a comment and/or like this post below, or by clicking the title on the top of this post if you are on the archives page. Likes and follows greatly appreciated. Thanks.

Please feel free check out the latest posts from my other two blogs:

To Contrive & Jive
New Posts Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday
Click Here to Read the Latest Post

Hark Around the Words
New Posts Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday
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