Need inspiration for sticking to an exhausting leg-beautifying running and faux bronzing routine and laying off the damn Fudge Stripe cookies and *&%4!@ Dutch Chocolate Blue Bell ice cream?
After you move to a new house, and before you place all your belongings in their rightful homes, have your husband plop a huge mirror on the floor of your master bedroom, leaning against the wall right at hip height. That way, each time you walk past it, you can zoom-in thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis close on every microscopic spider vein and nano-ounce of cellulite on your chubby, Fudge Stripe cookie thighs.
Grrr…such is my lot in life at the moment.
The spiders are mostly (mostly) an age thing, so I don’t beat myself up too much about those. Besides, thanks to a few excruciating but super-effective trips to the Vein Treatment Center in New York last year, they aren’t so bad. And if I’d been keeping up with my New Year’s resolution to drybrush my skin, they’d be even less of an issue.
(It’s one of the Great Mysteries of the Western World why drybrushing helps with spider veins. But just anecdotally – as opposed to empirically, or categorically, or most definitely – it does. Plus it’s relaxing…)
Okay, moving on from this spider vein / drybrushing tangent now…I actually intended to blog about the Dos & Don’ts of using one of those Bronze Buffer self-tan remover spongey thingamajigs…
Last week, after my first close encounter with the giant mirror plopped on my bedroom floor, I went racing for one of the darkest faux-bronzers in my arsenal: Jergens Natural Glow Express (now discontinued, which is why the bootleg bottle I’m linking to here costs $39.99!) and slathered it from hip to toe.
Not head to toe, hip to toe. Since that was my area of concern, that’s what got slathered.
I did this two days in a row, and I have to say that the faux glow provided serious distraction from the spiders and Dutch Chocolate Blue Bell ice cream thigh-jiggle situation.
But inevitably, I spotted little errant self-tanner splotches on my feet and around my ankles. In shorts – and from a distance – I looked fine. Up close it was a different story.
So again I went racing. This time it was for my Bronze Buffer, which you basically just wet and then scrub on the offending area. On the feet and ankles, it works like a charm.
But then I got the not-smart idea to try the Bronze Buffer on my face, on a few dots on my right cheek left behind by new fave formula, James Read Sleep Mask Tan. (Spendy but worth it; a complete compliment-magnet.)
I’m leery of using self-tanners on the face for precisely this reason – they can result in blotches that, while small, are highly visible to the world around you. I don’t know about you, but no one is really inspecting my legs or feet with a magnifying glass. So if I have a faux glow mishap there, it’s usually only me who’s obsessing about it.
Your face is an altogether different story. If anything is going on there, everyone can see it.
Which is why I thought: If I can just find a self-tanner for the face that I love – one that doesn’t collect in tiny brown puddles on my cheeks – I’ll be a seriously happy camper. Or conversely, if the Bronze Buffer works as well on the face as it does on the feet, it won’t matter if it puddles or not.
Maybe I just scrubbed too hard, but I accidentally rubbed my poor right cheek raw. First it stung like a mo-fo. And now, three days later, I still have a rough, sandpaper-y patch that I’ve been camouflaging with my much-beloved Marc Jacobs Beauty Marvelous Mousse Transformative Foundation in 26 Bisque Medium.
I’ve learned a (literally) painful lesson. Although I may try the Bronze Buffer on my face again some time, you can bet your sweet bippy I’ll go easier.