Under my skin

As I edge up to the ripeness that is 35, I have been wondering if is time to refine my skin-care regimen. This is easier than it sounds, since my “regimen” consists of scrubbing my face with a shower glove and borderline-fancy soap. Almost any change that doesn’t involve rubbing my face with a Microplane would be a refinement.

But I can’t do it. Every attempt I have made to look into the subject of skin care is hampered by my resistance to the undertone of desperation in the advertising, by the absurd prices, and by the patently silly names. So pervasive is the implied female fear of aging that I was pleasantly surprised to realize PrescriptivesLast Chance URL is their clearinghouse for discontinued items, not the name of a night cream.

(To blatantly steal a joke from quote Matthew Baldwin Jeezum crow, lookit all these links. What is this, Memepool? I mean: Memepool?”)