Not that you asked, but I splash warm water on my face, then generously rub St. Ives apricot facial scrub all over it as if it were a golden shower from heaven.
Fifteen fame-making minutes later, I shower it off, using the extremely pure and unscented Basis soap in tandem with Nivea face wash, my pores opening up like a reality star’s privates after 15 too many energy drinks.
After completely drying my puss with Cottonelle, I rub in life-giving Vitamin E oil, which whittles away the years like an ax dipped in Botox, and then I blot it so I don’t look as oily as Celine Dion all day.
The result may not have turned me into a supermodel, but I’d look way worse if I hadn’t been doing this routine for ages.
This article from the Village Voice Archive was posted on September 20, 2010