Saturday, 3 June 2017

Behind the mask...

Something very odd happened yesterday.  I unexpectedly found myself alone in the house (no dogs, no husband, no children) for three whole hours.  Why was this unexpected, I hear you ask.  Well, lovely Miss H, who walks Percy and Reg every Friday, had whisked them off to the dreaming spires of Oxford for an al fresco picnic (those two have a better social life than I do at times) so wouldn't be back home for some time.

So what was I going to do with this unexpected gift of time?  Well, having done the obligatory sweep through the house, I decided that I would do some facial housekeeping. This entailed removing unsightly hairs from unwanted places, and colouring in hairs where there should be some (eyebrows in case you're wondering).  So suitably waxed and crayoned, I then decided on a facepack.  

I had bought one from TK Maxx some time ago, and my skin looked like it could do with some high quality TLC, so I whipped open the box, and pulled out something which can only be described as a flattened slug. Slimy and wet as it was, I plastered it onto my face, taking extra special care to make sure that I had it up the right way as it had nose, eyes and mouth spaces cut out.  

Looking at myself in the mirror, I looked like the Phantom of the Opera, and as it was a 'one size fits all' mask, they obviously had to cater for all shapes and sizes of faces, so my mask had some attractive pleating around the chin.  I did try and smooth it out as suggested in the instruction leaflet, but the pleats simply moved around my face, eventually settling at the corners of my eyes.  

Because the mask was quite heavy with goodness knows what, the manufacturer suggested that you lie down for twenty minutes while it does its stuff.  Well this seemed a fine idea, so I set my alarm for an hour or so, laid down for a little nap and looked forward to the time when I could reveal my inner beauty courtesy of the wonder mask.

One hour later the alarm went off.  Opening my eyes, I realised that this was the only facial movement possible, as the mask had dried into a rigid crinkly shape.  I cautiously lifted the corner near my chin, and it shifted, which was great, but unfortunately, the mask took my chin with it (probably didn't need to have waxed after all).  In the end, I had to soak my face in the sink, and slowly, the death mask reverted back to its sloppy state, and it slid off my rather pink face.  

I looked about five - I put this down to the hairless super smooth skin and the two rather rosy cheeks.

Just a shame about the double chin, grey roots and shortsightedness...
   


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