Lazy ladies know what’s up: when it comes to tumbling home after a late night (or collapsing in front of the TV with a glass of wine, whatever floats your boat), face wipes are the only way to go. Why fuss with soap and water when you can just slap a cleansing wipe on your face and call it a day? I know a good thing when I see it, and I also know an even better thing (really): unlike the drugstore-brand towelettes I usually pick up (no shame), these biodegradable Purify Coconut Water Cleansing Wipes from Pacifica are formulated sans nasty chemicals with unpronounceable names. No phthalates, parabens, carmine, beeswax, lanolin, mineral oil, propylene glycol, petroleum, or FD&C colors, and 100% vegan and cruelty-free, they’re simply soaked in coconut water and natural exfoliating papaya, plus aloe and calendula extracts to soothe and calm. If there’s one thing I love, it’s a good face wipe, but 30 all-natural face wipes in a resealable, adorably patterned pouch at a price that’s beyond reasonable? I’m considering buying stock. [$6, Pacifica]
I inherited a lot of things from my mother (for starters: high cheekbones, bullheadedness, a taste for afternoon naps and all things fermented grape), but my love of beauty products wasn’t one of them. It’s actually more likely that my propensity towards packed bathroom cabinets and overflowing shower ledges was directly derived from my father, who has been hoarding L’Occitane Green Tea Shower Gel in case of apocalypse since before I was born. (And not in vain: they actually did discontinue it a few years back, just as he feared.) My mother, on the other hand, doesn’t wash her face, never throws anything out, and insists on using the same L’Oreal lip gloss every day, even despite my many attempts at replacing it with Yves Saint Laurent under her nose.
Even so, I’m not surprised that a new British study found, in a poll of 2,000 women, that one third of those women use the same beauty products as their mothers. According to the research, daughters begin borrowing their mother’s products at the average age of 13, and 40 percent of 18 to 24-year-olds continue to use those same products. Keep reading »
As The Frisky’s resident beauty hoarder, I try a lot of different skincare products. Not that I’m complaining (at all, whatsoever): skincare is kind of my thing, and I will put literally anything on my face — provided I’ve given the ingredients a once-over to make sure I approve, of course. Very rarely, however, does a product line truly wow me, and the ones that do tend to be well found-out; as in, I don’t need to evangelize because they’re already super-popular, and I don’t want to have any hand in them flying off the shelves lest I not be able to find them anymore (I’m looking at you, Tata Harper, you perfect product-formulator, you). But when I fall in love with something brand new to the market, that is when it comes time for me to shout it from the rooftops. Orico is one such line. This British import, powered by Ecocert certified organic ingredients like plant oils and advanced antioxidants, was created with city slickers in mind: all of their products are formulated for skin that is frequently exposed to pollution, stress, air-conditioning, and heating. Which, unless you live in a zen forest (and I am so jealous if you do), applies to pretty much everyone. Since launching stateside at the end of January, Orico has already been recommended by Vogue and Vanity Fair. Bottom line? Go place your order before everyone else beats you to it. [$19-49, Orico London]
I don’t care how cliche it is, I am a girl that loves a good awards show. The bigger the stars (and the more of them), the better. The Oscars have all of my favorite things in one place: glitzy dresses fresh off the runway? Check. Incredible hair and makeup? Check. Acceptance speeches that run the gamut from hilarious to tear-jerking to obnoxious to secondhand embarassment-inducing? Check. A valid reason to drink to excess and yell at the TV screen that doesn’t involve sports? Check! I don’t necessarily wish I was famous (though there are some pretty undeniable perks, i.e. free everything), but I definitely like to approach Oscars night as the ideal opportunity to act like I am. This doesn’t mean I like to get all dressed up and put on loads of borrowed jewelry and have an awkward conversation with Giuliana Rancic — actually, it’s kind of the opposite. Come Sunday night, I will be doing one thing and one thing only, and that is treating myself with some full-fledged pampering, fuzzy bathrobe style. Or shall we say, celeb-style? So please, get your hair masques, face masques, everything masques at the ready. Put your best pajamas on and pop the Moët & Chandon (it’s the official champagne of the Oscars!). Here are the luxurious treatments I’ll be indulging in while I sit back and watch the 85th Academy Awards…
Sometime around the beginning of everything ever, humanity started drafting its long-running list of dangerous, idiotic things done in the name of youth and beauty. In ancient Greece, where blond hair was valued above all, women lightened their tresses with arsenic … which later became a popular ingredient for face powder. Venetian cerise, a skin-whitening cosmetic considered the best of its time, contained white lead that would eventually cause sores, organ damage, and death. Similarly, the first kohl was made of dark lead, which Egyptians proceeded to put in and around their eyeballs. Because that’s a good place to put lead. And let’s not even start with Elizabeth Bathory, the freakin’ Blood Countess, who bathed in and drank the blood of hundreds of virgins to keep herself looking youthful. To Liz’s credit, she lived pretty long for her time period. Maybe she was onto something? Keep reading »
Chapped lips, peeling forehead, brittle hands, and ashy legs. Did I mention split ends? We’ve all been there before and now we’re back. As I dried off after my shower last night, I mulled over another failed attempt at maintaining that silky smooth summer skin I so desire to achieve year round. There I stood, with a handful of dispensed lotion blobbed onto my elbows and knees; and moist skin to no avail. I decided it was time to actively participate in the betterment of my skin.
So here are the steps I took in producing skin that puts those photo-shopped St. Ives girls to shame. Head to toe. Read more…