A while back my mom discovered this post she also made note of the fact that I had recently lamented the fact that I was losing hair as well. (Yes, you didn’t know it, but I’m secretly a man – overweight, balding, bushy chin…approaching 40 while driving the speed limit in my mini-van.)
But this is how my mom must see me:

Now, if you have a mom that is anything at all like mine, she’s going to try to “fix” all the things that you are unhappy about, especially when it comes to beauty, because that’s easy, right? After one of her Doctor appointments, I took her to Wal-mart to get her prescription filled and while there, she remembered my various and assorted ailments and bought me these:

See where I’ve circled? The words say “Specially formulated for adults over 50”. Hold on mom, while we’re here at Wal-Mart, let me go ahead and pick up some Ben-Gay and Preparation H “just in case”.

I thought that would be the end of it. And so it was…for a while. Last week, she casually mentioned that she had bought something to help out with that “hair on your chin”. I know my mom – she is more likely to believe a paid testimonial than to believe her own daughter, so I was pretty sure it was off of one of those “AS SEEN ON TV” infomercials that she and my step dad sit around watching all day. So it was really no surprise to me when I was over there yesterday and she pulled out not one, (but TWO!) little brown boxes and excitedly handed one to me, stating, “I’ve been charging the batteries for the last two days waiting for you to come over so we could try this out together!”. Why did that make me nervous? I opened the box to find a little gadget that looked harmless enough:

So I started reading the instructions. Because my “S” personality says I must. I always read the instructions before doing anything, because I like following the rules. {That was a freebie} The first thing that stood out was “New! Innovative technology removes hair from the root for soft, silky skin.” Notice how the words “from the root” are smaller than “REMOVES HAIR” and “SOFT, SILKY SKIN”. This is an old advertising trick – make ’em see only the words you want ’em to. It stated that I would only have to do this about every 6 weeks, because as we all know, when you pluck your hair, it doesn’t grow back in as fast (and anyone who has ever paid to have their eyebrows waxed knows this is a load of hogwash). So I continued to read the pamphlet and I would now like you to take special notice of the areas I have bracketed below:

I am warned to “keep my skin taut” to avoid pinching and not once, but TWICE told that there is “no need to apply pressure.” Duly noted. The pamphlet goes on to say “We suggest that you try the unit on the back of your hand. The slight sensation you feel will diminish over time.” Obviously, I was expecting some discomfort after reading that. So, with instructions in hand, I placed the device on my other hand, squeezed my eyes shut (it’s a reflex when I am expecting pain) and turned it on. Much vibrating and sure enough, the little gizmo was ripping the hairs right out by the root! I barely felt it. Oh, excitement abounded.

I immediately proceeded to my chin. A little more discomfort, but not too bad. I’m used to plucking some of those hair anyway, so it didn’t take long and my chin was literally plucked clean of all those thick, dark hairs that had escaped my 400X magnification mirror with Hollywood-style lighting. I was quite pleased with the results, but noticed that now my upper lip now looked like it belonged on a 40-year old man living in the bush of Alaska, because next to my smooth-as-a-baby’s butt chin, it was rather…bushy. With my trusty new “Tweeze’s” in hand, I decided to tackle it.

That was about the time when the sky turned black and the thunder rolled, lightning filled the skies and all h-e-double-hockeysticks broke loose. When I placed the device on my upper lip and turned it on, it was as if I had placed a transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation device on my face and stepped into a big old tub of bathwater. Electrical shock therapy would feel better than this felt. My eyes rolled back into their sockets, my feet shot out from under me and my entire body stiffened from the pain. But my hand was frozen, pressing the little unit harder and harder against my upper lip from the sheer pain. (note that the instructions stated not once, but twice, NOT to press hard on the unit, now I know why) No matter how badly my MIND wanted to pull my hand away, it was frozen in place until, by sheer willpower, I was was able to extract the device from the tangle of skin and hair on my upper lip. Breathless and exhausted, I think I sat there on my mom’s couch for a good 10 minutes before I could move.

When I finally recovered from the initial first pass, I looked into the mirror. Half of my upper lip was gone. No, I mean, the hairs were gone from half of my upper lip. But it felt like half of my upper lip was gone. Would it surprise you if I told you I did it again to the other side? I did. Always a glutton for punishment, I steeled myself for the inevitable by gritting my teeth and locking my jaw in determination.

And I went for round two of “tweezer device from hell”. Because obviously, that’s where it was made. Or, it could have possibly been used in the mid-18th century as a torture device, but I’m pretty sure they didn’t have batteries back then.

Either way…I don’t recommend you try it. Let this notice serve as a public service announcement for the benefits of waxing versus using the Tweeze device. I’m all for sacrificing for beauty, but that was above and beyond the call of beauty duty. If you need me, I’ll be sitting in my easy chair with an ice pack on my face to minimize swelling…

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5 Comments on Beauty Tips from the Uninformed

  1. Lora Lynn
    May 31, 2008 at 12:06 pm (9 years ago)

    Thank you for this public service. We are all in your debt.

    And the laughs? Priceless.

  2. Megan (FriedOkra)
    May 31, 2008 at 1:34 pm (9 years ago)

    Okay. OW. Notice they don’t even market such a thing to men. Because men would NEVER GO FOR IT. Women, however, are willing to take the pain, for beauty. We are utterly ridiculous, aren’t we?

  3. Owlhaven
    May 31, 2008 at 2:10 pm (9 years ago)

    Oh, how very sad. And funny

    Mary

  4. Emily
    May 31, 2008 at 3:21 pm (9 years ago)

    terrifying! maybe your lip just wasn’t used to the pain? that just sounded horrific. like yanking those baby hairs out of your eyebrows that bring tears to your eyes — ouch!

  5. Andrea
    May 31, 2008 at 5:10 pm (9 years ago)

    I am so sorry for your pain, but oh my goodness, it was good for a laugh! (At least from this end!) I think that I would have done both sides too because who wants to have lopsided facial hair! 🙂

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