Thursday, July 05, 2007

One of the stupider things I've done this year.


Earlier this year, in a fit of parsimony coupled with frustration at the pursuit of beauty, I rediscovered soap. This does not mean that I have spent any time in the wilderness of grotty. I am, in truth, almost crazy about cleanliness. In a twist that owes much to ridiculous proverbs that involve deities that I don’t believe in, I’ve somehow replaced worship of supreme beings with the worship of feeling clean. I love bathing in all its forms and worship my shower like a corner of heaven. This being so, I’ve been quite the product fiend. My bathroom holds the remnants of all manner of potions and lotions, masks and scrubs, cleansers and toners, and body washes and soap-like things, but, for many years, just plain old soap did not touch my fair skin. Not, I might add, that these products make much difference. Like so many things in life, and something of which I’ve become quite well aware, skin, and its behaviour, is inherited. I had the sense to inherit well. And I know this because, quite frankly, I’ve been told so often and by so many different people that I’ve come to believe it. I have, you see, quite the nice complexion. And I realise that it’s genetic because it runs in the family and because it’s something that I achieve without effort.

And so to soap. Despite the above, the more functional part of my brain, I have bought into a rather geriatric advertising campaign in my pursuit of the perfect soap. Skin, you see, is, on the face at least, complexion and we all know what’s good for the complexion, don’t we? Oh yes, we do. I’ve gone for Pears, despite its rather odd scent, based on some old-fashioned notion of bettering my complexion. And, quite possibly, in the hope that continued use will make me look like the lovely lady with the lilies rather than a 17th century milkmaid.

Oh yes, soap will improve my complexion and melt away my figure!


5 comments:

TimT said...

You should date a Freudian, and then they can admire your Oedipus Complexion.

Despite having something of a family history of bad skin, my parents always have some bars of this around the house.

nailpolishblues said...

Gah, what a shambles of a post. You can tell I got bored halfway through and just kind of...

Are you suggesting that my complexion wants to kill my father and marry my mother, Tim? 'cause, seriously, not even my complexion's that crazy [my dad is though].

Was the solvol for the times when you wanted to wash that man right outta your hair..? [I wonder how it reacts to peroxide? Best not to try it.]

dylan said...

Pears soap is the best, what more do you need? When i was a kid, my mum used to make us wash our hair with it, that's how good it is.

Pavan said...

Nailpolish you didnt complete what you were going to say - so did you or did you not see your complexion blossom ( and your figure melt away??!) Pears is, to use a seldom used word, awesome. Just wanted to know if you thought so too after your first-time use.

nailpolishblues said...

Dylan, I it on my hair but it was a nightmare. Very dry!

Pavan, my complexion remains as it always was (a-ok, yeah) but so far my figure has failed to melt away. Only high heat really melts fat :( I've become quite fond of the Pears even though I find it weird smelling.