An Open Letter to my Face.

Hello. How are you? I suspect you’re pretty good considering that I just cleansed toned and moisturised you.

I wonder if you feel honoured about all of the attention I give you. You get a lot more of it than any other part of my body. I wonder if you taunt my hair who gets burned quite regularly while you are constantly soothed and taken care of.

You were my first step into taking care of my looks when I was a teenager. I wanted to have a beautiful face and I invested in all of the necessary tools to do that.

It wasn’t long before I fell in love with skincare and fell in love with keeping you as healthy as possible.

I wonder if you’re aware how much work goes into you. Numerous different oils, scrubs and masks for the shower. Lots of cleansers and toners after that. And finally all of the day creams and night creams that eat into my budget.

Although, admittedly, I’m not always that wonderful to you. I’ve put you through laser hair removal, where you were targeted by a big scary laser machine and blasted with heat. I continue to put you through electrolysis where a needle is stuck into your skin and a bolt of heat is shot into your follicles. I’ve plucked you and cut you while shaving and tried many different strange treatments to make you look your best and prevent any hairs from growing on your surface.

I also drink alcohol a lot, I don’t get nearly as much sleep as I should and I drink coffee constantly as well as Diet Coke ad lots of other fizzy drinks. Maybe I’ll stop all of that someday but you have to remember that I’m only 19 and I’m trying to be as wild as I can.

On the bright side, at least I don’t wear make-up. I admit that’s not for your benefit but I’m sure it helps you.

Actually, thinking about it, I must be quite annoying for you. I’m like a helicopter parent. Constantly looking in the mirror and checking on your lines. Making sure you haven’t adopted any blemishes or wrinkles as friends. Getting annoyed when you look slightly less than perfect. I must improve on that, for both of our sakes.

Like any parent, as you get older, I may not like you as much. I’d like you to prepare for this scenario. It’s not my fault if I can’t look at you the same once you’ve gone all rebellious on me.

But, for now, we’re best friends and I hope it can stay that way for as long as possible. I’ll catch up with you later for our nightly routine. I look forward to it just as much as you do.

Love you,

David Beattie.

An Open Letter to my Feet

 

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