Lockdown and other shiz…

There is no doubt that the global lock-down has been difficult for most people for a variety of reasons. I realised – to my dismay – that there comes a time when the sight of your boyfriend’s peach-fuzzy butt crack peeping out of his boxers for the thousandth time is just too much to bear.

Apparently, some people flourished during this time, learning six languages at a time, building whole tree-houses from one piece of of wood and six nails, becoming culinary master-chefs, writing best-selling books and their sequels and starting businesses that made a million sales in the first day! If you’re sick of hearing about these lockdown-bloomers, quite frankly, so am I. I, honestly, don’t know how they did it.

For me, fear crept in and slowly sipped on my creatives juices until I was completely dry. And without my loose juice, my mental faculties felt muddy and stagnant, which led to very little artistic expression.

On top of that, my mental health was low because every time I watched the international news, the police were killing -with impunity- people who look like me or members of my family. I felt like a husk of myself.

In an attempt to redefine and rejuvenate, I worked out excessively but simultaneously managed to eat in equal measure, resulting in weight and muscle gain. I am, now, ridiculously strong and chubby at the same time. I look like a mini Sumo wrestler without the charm of the fancy loincloth, or, the fight.

Thankfully, I had no problem being with my partner for such an extended amount of time; it didn’t feel like being stuck together. However, discovering his bizarre takes on science and conspiracies was rather alarming. I have never rolled my eyes, given the side-eye, or said “is that really how you think science works” so many times in my life. The truth is everyone’s losing their minds in varying degrees and coping with it the best they can. That could mean blaming the whole pandemic on 5G.

Then there’s the inevitable loss of income and watching while the authorities bail out huge corporations and monied companies, as small businesses and self-employed people struggle to keep life together. Diabolical. It’s like being in a cartoon.

Running out of cosmetics is not a good place to be when you have dry, sensitive skin. The pandemic obviously led to delays in the chains of production and delivery, so, at some point, I found myself with two days worth of moisturiser and no night cream.

Necessity dictated that I find a solution and not sit around with my face in my hands like the shocked emoji. Then, I remembered that when I was at university, I used to enjoy making creamy concoctions and lotions, so I went back to my roots and began experimenting, blending oils that I had in in the house. What I came up with was a smooth, intensely bright, vivid orange night oil (see above image). It soothed my inflamed, confused, depressed, hyperpigmented skin.

It worked so well that before long, I was using this night oil all over my body, from eyes to feet – no more foot or eye creams at night. Before quarantine, the thought of using an oil blend on my face seemed ludicrous. Now, I can’t think of using anything else and it’s become (wait for the beauty guru cliché) my holy grail! I have become accustomed to waking up with supple, glowing skin in the morning and bonus, it’s also made my breasts look amazing. Just saying.

I haven’t yet created a booming business out of it but at the very least, I can say that I sorted out my skin to a level that makes me happy and that’s something to be proud of.