My daughter and I often put on face masks and scroll through Pinterest. It’s a lovely bonding time that always helps me decompress. The other night my 14-year-old son tried to give it a go, but he hated every second of it. He almost threw a tantrum when it got tight and immediately ran upstairs claiming his face was on fire and yelled, “Why do you do this to yourself?”
I have to give it up for YouTuber Sailor J who sums up why we do this in her hilarious video “5 Stages of Wearing a Clay Mask.” It’s relatable as fuck.
We’ve all had those shitty days when we felt fucking awful, being an adult was too much, and nothing was going right. Sailor J’s video starts out talking about all of life’s problems that leave us feeling like a dirty dishrag at the end of the day:
“All of my bills came today. Why the fuck everything cost money? Gotta pay to take a bath, to see in the dark…”
Yes, everything feels helpless, but when we reach for that clay mask, we are hoping for some immediate results to stop our world from spinning out of control. I might be broke, but damn it, at least I’ll have small pores.
Like Sailor J says, “I can’t face the world, but you know what I can do? A face mask that promises to fix my life.”
Fuck yes, you can.
“I am a strong fierce woman, and I have my life together,” she says as she applies blue clay all over her face and neck area, hoping to rub the fuckery out of her life. “I am unstoppable!”
Our thoughts exactly.
But wait for it — things get ugly. It gets tight; the mask starts to burn and make us feel like we need to dunk our head in a bath filled with cucumbers and aloe. We think that is good though, right? If it’s burning, it must be working. At least, that’s what we tell ourselves.
As Sailor J screams, “That is cleansing my pores,” she sounds empowered until it’s unbearable and she has to rinse that shit off quick.
Then she tells the lie we all tell ourselves, “Beauty is pain!”
As the discomfort continues, she claims she will “never wear this shit again” and throws the tube of clay in the trash. Hell, I’ve said that every time I apply one of those fuckers as my face turns stiffer than a pair of socks that have been hibernating under a teenage boy’s bed.
I don’t know that we are actually doing this correctly. My skin-care-obsessed pal tells me I should be spritzing my face throughout so that it doesn’t get too tight and dry the hell out of my skin. But, meh, beauty is pain, according to Sailor J.
She ends the video with “I am young and supple. Here I come world!” We have all been her and feel like a new version of ourselves after a nice mask reveals a new, brighter, firmer (or at least redder) us, which is why we will continue to slather our faces every time shit hits the fan. If we are going to ride the struggle bus, we want to be the passenger with the most dewy skin.