Okay, that might be a little dramatic of me but you know me, always with the theatrics. If a girl's not allowed a rant on her birthday when is she? In all seriousness, I did think I've been reading about my dream product, a daily facial moisturizer with SPF 50 (yeah, you read that right, 5-0!) but we just don't get along. It's like me and orange dresses or say, Lady Gaga and pants. Not going to happen. I'll tell you where this not-so-fairytale began.
For weeks I've been reading about Cetaphil's moisturizer with SPF 50 and thought, now I NEED that. Finally I caved and picked up a box, balking a little at the $12.99 price tag when my favorite sunscreen is around $8 but I though to myself, self, this is a moisturizer, designed to make your dry skin moist-er. It promises not to leave you greasy or with a white film, it swears it won't clog your pores. You need this in your life. So I get it home, rip into the packaging before I even make myself supper (I'm a fat girl and I'm starving at the time) and throw it on my face. The first thing I notice is the telltale SPF smell. Okay, I can deal with that. I don't like it but I'm not mad at it either. Then I keep rubbing and rubbing and rubbing and it's not sinking in. It's not even a warm night, my skin is dry, no other product on my face but it just sits there. Okay, I have to give it another try, no big deal.
Sunday was try number two, while mowing the lawn I needed something with a high enough SPF that wasn't going to clog my pores. I slathered my neck and chest with my old faithful, Garnier Skin Renew Anti-Sun Damage with SPF 28, the one that inevitably would worm its way into my eyes and sting like a mother ducker. I couldn't put myself through that, not with the shape of my lawn after days upon days of rain. I mean, I was looking at inches of grass, still soggy from the rain yesterday, I needed something that would protect me better than that. I will say that when I was sweaty and gross this did not run into my eyes, however, when I applied it a little too close to them on Monday I was left with no choice but to dump my makeup bag out on the chaise to find my precious eyedrops. Also,I was left a greasy mess. I definitely worked up a sweat but my chest, normally the first place to start dripping, was glistening while I looked like I slathered Crisco on my face. Not a pretty look. I'm sure the neighbors were staring, I was scaring off kids and puppies, all sorts of ugliness, but that could have been my purple leggings.
Other nasty side effects include, a greasy residue that just beaded up in the shower until I hit it with some Purity Made Simple. Now my face is soft and slightly hydrated but is it worth it? HELL NO! Honestly, I'd rather use the Garnier one and live with a perma-supply of eye drops. That one rinses clean with water, leaves my face feeling like butter and smells divine. Also, the pump, the one their touting as revolutionary on the box? A piece of crap. On only the second use, holding it upside down so all liquid should flow to the pump and still I got a sputtering akin to the last drops of mustard in the bottle.
Alas, this was not a worthwhile relationship, one that I consider an experiment in bad taste, like the bad boy you dated for two seconds in high school that you shudder to think about now. At least this cheap girl can bring her complaints back to the returns counter and get a full refund.
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