Skincare SOS

I’m at the absolute limits of my patience; waking up daily only to but heads with someone surly, uncooperative and downright rebellious. No, I am not parent to a teen who has tired of the love, care and attention I’ve been showing it for years, and is now throwing it back in my face. The unruly one is me. More specifically, my skin, which woke up one day angry at the world, ready to unleash the full power of its red, tight, itchy, and spotty fury my way.

And just like an actual rebellious teen, it knew my weak spots. In the current world of Zoom-only back-to-back meetings, my skin showed up with scaly crimson rash right under my eyes. Instead of inspired colleagues, I saw pitying stares on screen.

Now, I must fess-up – I may have been a tad heavy-handed with a recent application of Salicylic Acid; and a general over-reliance on those handy blue face masks you see Drs wearing, but which are made with a very stabby metal nose-bridge. Both of which my skin apparently detests and actively, visibly rejects – ok, ok I hear you.

But how restore calm? My first port of call was to book a Dermatology appointment, until I saw the prices for just a short consultation. Prices that made my bonus-time only purchase of Crème de la Mer seem like a bargain-basement purchase. While I solidly believe that experts are the best source of information, and symptom analysis, I thought I would go it alone and leave the Derm appointment for my regular mole-check-in instead, typical of someone who grew up in Australia.

So, to an old lover I returned, hoping to slink my way back into their life. A previous giver of velvety skin, I had spurned Jojoba Oil for more glamorous brands and wonder ingredients. Now I was humbling myself prostrate before the little utilitarian jar, begging them to take me back, and being the generous lover I once knew, it embraced me with even more fervour than before.

My skincare SOS method saw me slathering my face with the sensual oil, leaving it to break-up with my days-old mascara, dissolve make-up and sunscreen, and whisk the stubborn dirt out of pores; a few swipes of a muslin cloth to leaving my face clean and smooth. Introducing a second to the relationship, a milk cleanser to remove excess oil and stubborn dirt or make-up; followed with ice-cold water to soothe my persistent redness. Lastly, a secret love – Nivea Soft Cream, which is like your nan’s hug in a tube, and perfect for infusing your skin with extra moisture.

After two days, my face was visibly less red, no longer itchy, and the skin under my eyes was starting to heal enough to stop the pitying stares. I could relax in meetings, focusing solely on saying the right thing. For the past month, I have been letting my skin heal and breathe. Gone is the Salicylic Acid, and disposable face masks. Jojoba Oil has once again made my skin velvety smooth, cleaned out my black-heads, and removed all traces of make-up. My skin is softer than ever, and I swear even my thirty-something year-old’s fine lines are starting to plump up.

It’s come along in such leaps and bounds, I have even been able to re-introduce some slightly more potent ingredients back into my routine, with no redness or inflammation – namely Niacinamide, Hyaluronic Acid, and the weekly dose of Retinol that I am trying to acclimate my skin to – and my skin has never looked better. And this time, I will be keeping this love affair with Jojoba Oil alive and not turn my head with every new hot product on the scene. Proof that leopards can change their spots – at least when they are only skin deep.