There Are Beauty Hacks, And Then There Are…

There Are Beauty Hacks, And Then There Are…
Spread the love


I’ll start.

This isn’t about the time I was locked in a room without my tube of lip balm and swiped a pat of salted butter on my lips. Nor is it about the time that Taylor Swift used a Sharpie as eyeliner in an airplane bathroom. That’s her story to tell, not mine.

My story starts with a bottle of custom shampoo from one of those companies with really good targeted ads. The bottle I had was petering out, and its replacement wasn’t due to arrive for another week. Daily, I feared I would reach the last drop. When it finally happened I panicked.

What other cleansing agents did I have within arm’s reach? There was a Dove bar—but aren’t those things, like, a quarter moisturizer? I could use my Summer Fridays face wash, but I swore to only use tiny, chase amounts in an attempt to ration it. There was one other facial cleanser I thought might do the trick, and I had no emotional connection to it. Pulling it into my filth chamber with me, I examined the ingredient list. The first ingredient was sweet almond oil. What the hell! Why do I have so much crap, and why can none of it approximate shampoo? You’d think someone in the beauty-adjacent population would have vaults full of that stuff just showing up at my door.

I peeked under the bathroom sink, initially to see if my tub of Oxiclean had any warnings against using it to wash hair. That’s when I saw it—Orson’s dog shampoo. Burt’s Bees for Dogs Oatmeal Shampoo, to be exact. “Well, if it’s good enough for him…” I trailed off, lying. Experientially, it wasn’t all that different from human shampoo. Or even horse shampoo, given my history with Mane ‘n Tail. Maybe we’re more alike than we think? [Note: Orson is doing fine, by the way! He says, “BORK!”]

I lathered and rinsed. A few hours later, after my hair had air dried, I caught a glimpse of myself the mirror. All two inches of it were matted like a monkey, and it was somehow greasier than before? I looked for a can of dry shampoo. No luck, of course. I searched the rest of my apartment. Among the things I considered:

Flour
Cornstarch
The sediment at the bottom of the quinoa jar
The sediment at the bottom of the Shredded Wheat bag

I eventually decided upon hand sanitizer. It dries my hands out, so why not my hair? I parted my hair and sprayed it on the roots. It stung. Dear reader, if you take one thing away from this story, let it be that a quick spray of rubbing alcohol on greasy hair is a great life hack when you want hair that is both brittle and oily.

I went to bed with a bandana tied on my head, like Hulk Hogan, to protect my pillowcases from myself. The next morning, my errands went like this: feed the dog, walk the dog, buy human shampoo. Those are my inner demons. Now, it’s your turn to share yours.

—Or Gotham

Photo via ITG




This is main post Check this

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *