We Tried The Newest Face Mask Trend: Wearing An Old Person’s Face To Absorb Their Wisdom

August 17, 2018 by , featured in Lifestyle
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Lately, I’ve been feeling a little “ugh.” and it’s not just because the nation has become a living Salvador Dali painting or the fact that my rose petal cleanse ended in a total lack of fairy sightings. I didn’t want to jump on another cleanse so quickly after the last one required me to eat literal fire and the concept of fluid time. I’ve tried all the latest face mask crazes: the blood mask, the basic bitch avocado mask, something called PooPoo from Korea. But I wanted … no, I needed something that wouldn’t just make my face feel amazing. I needed something that would soothe my soul. I liked the idea of that face mask that makes you look like an old person, but I decided that, for soul-deep change, I would need an actual old person face mask.

So I decided to find a dead old lady and cut her face off.

I kept an eye on the obits until I found my mark. She had three kids, eight grandkids, and just a whole lot of cancer. I waited until she was in the ground, dreaming about the amazing homemade chicken soup and gingerbread recipes that were about to be bestowed upon me. My life was about to get soooo much less stressful. I mean, what do old people ever worry about? Their bones? The conflicts between relativity and linear time?

Finally, it was time to sneak into the graveyard and swipe my face. I sent a silent thanks to the universe for providing me with a full blood moon on the night of my spiritual journey to wisdomlightenment. Once I got the body out in the cool night air, I started slicing with my priestess-blessed mermaid knife. As soon as I got the face off, I immediately misted it with a combination rose and rosè water to tighten and freshen the old-face while I prepared my mind and soul for the amazing transformation that was about to take place. After I found a pure creek and got it blessed by a Mongolian monk at midnight, I prepared my scented candles in a geometric icosahedron on a pure quartz altar.

After soaking the face in pure stream water and lavender essential oil for 30 minutes, I applied it to my face, smoothing it on in upward-sweeping motions, working away from my nose. About 10 minutes into my application, I started getting this unnatural urge to install a bunch of toolbars onto my laptop. Was it working? I closed my eyes and let the moon shine on my newly (oldly) minted face. I could feel the wisdom flowing into my pores. I wanted to share minions memes and call my grandkids that I don’t have.

Twenty minutes in, it started getting ridiculous. All of my bones hurt, my eyesight got cloudy, and I couldn’t stop trembling. On the upside, I don’t remember what Twitter is anymore, let alone remember my password. I’ll never see anyone yelling about that yelly mafia guy again. My soul felt lighter. I’m decided to go for the full 30.

You know what’s wrong with the world these days? No one spanks their children or drinks out of garden hoses anymore. In my day, we played kick the can in the streets, and if someone disappeared on the walk home, it brought the community together. We didn’t have any fancy foo-foo “Amber alerts.” What is Tinder, and why is it making this no-button worthless phone buzz constantly? In my day, tinder was used to start fires, goldarnit.

The timer on my phone went off. I had to make a tough call. Do I remove the mask? Do I go back to my fast-paced, Uber-calling, Grubhub-ordering life? What do those words even mean? It’s not like I’ll ever afford to save for retirement anyway. I’m never going back. Bye Insta, adieu right-swipes, farewell avocado toast! I need to learn how to can things!

Someone take me to Cracker Barrel.


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