OK, so the internet has already covered, at length, the 50 Words Women Hate. Not sure where this meme first originated, but I’m pretty sure Holy Taco has something to do with it. I’d link to them, but my firewall settings at work won’t let me, so here’s a re-post on some young chap’s Tumblr. Not to be a deliberate contrarion or anything, but I happen to LOVE the words skank, skeezer, taint and perm. “Perm” always reminds me of Friday.

“What’s up Big Perm, I mean, Big Worm?”

One word on this list I particularly agreed with was “moist”. I seriously hate that word. But not for the obvious reasons, as most of the 50 words on this list are… intimate in nature. “Moist” in that application, though mildly cringe-worthy, does not inspire the capillary-busting dry-heaves quite like descriptions of humectants in food. The word moist usually makes me think of the canned variety of dog and cat food. That reeking, oily, gelatinous meat cocktail we’d never eat ourselves, yet we gladly allow our pets and impoverished senior citizens to chow on down- that is what pops into my head when someone says “moist.” Probably because of something that happened in high school at one of my sister’s Coors-Light-fueled, fratty Bacchanalia. But, mind, I wasn’t actually at this party, but the horror of the aftermath is still with me. I came home the next morning to find the house in typical post-revelry condition: the lingering smell of stale cigarette smoke with Stetson undertones, the crunch of Solo cups underfoot, the trashcan brimming with beer cans alternately filled with bong water or cigarette offal or even actual beer, the… riding lawn mower idling in the dining room. I spotted something shiny among the crumpled packs of Marlboro Light 100s and discarded cans of bourbon-flavored Copenhagen littering the kitchen island- it couldn’t be… But it was!…. More after the jump.

Awash in the antiseptic glare of the morning sun was the remains of a Savory Salmon Feast, next to which lay an utterly devoured Cod, Sole & Shrimp Feast- with business end of a dinner fork resting inside, seafood puree still clinging to it’s tines. Mouth agape, I stood there trying to riddle out what could possible have created such peculiar party dregs. Maybe they were trying to lure my cat out from underneath my bed with forkloads of tasty treats? Perhaps a good-natured round of beer overflowing had turned ugly enough that they resorted to pet food fighting? My mind was reeling trying to think of any excuse rather than the actual series of events my sister related to me later. Some dudebros spent, like, an hour coercing a lesser ‘bro to eat one bite of a can of our feline delights, to the tune of $23. When all was said and done, the inebriated bro had happily slurped down two whole cans of Fancy Feast and was by then so sated he forgot to demand his payment. HE ATE TWO CANS OF CAT FOOD ON A DARE AND THEN NEVER SAW THE MONEY. Damn. That shit seriously haunts my dreams. When I hear the word “moist”, the image of young Bourgeois shoveling seafood-flavored horsemeat into his drooling maw (yes, there was photographic evidence) comes to mind. Forever and ever.

The only acceptable use of the word moist, to me, is when it’s buried in another word, like “moisturizer”. That I can handle. Because moisture is the essence of wetness, and wetness is the essence of beauty.

So, here’s a quick review of the last 2 moisturizers I’ve tried lately:

Murad Redness Relief Daily Moisturizer with SFP 15 ($35 at Sephora):

I promised a review of this product way back when I did my rosacea post. Prior to buying this product, I noticed that my go-to day lotion, Shiseido the Skincare Daily Moisturizer, was not really cutting it anymore. While still doing a fantastic job of keeping my skin hydrated, it seemed to irritate my rosacea and make my skin unattractively shiny. It’s summertime, and my skin shines enough on it’s own in 105-degree heat, thxvrymuch, so I picked up the Murad. This product has a faintly herb-y, but not medicinal herb-y, scent and feels cooling on the skin. It absorbs quickly enough, and thankfully leaves a very matte finish. However, it is in no way moisturizing enough for my skin. I apply twice the amount of this product that I usually use, and still my skin feels a little bit tight and dry after the product soaks in. Re-applying more doesn’t seem to help, so I’ve been putting the Shiseido on top. I feel that because I’ve been doing this product-mixing, I may not be seeing the full redness reduction, but as is, I’d say it’s fair for Rosacea treatment. Maybe the results get better over time with consistent use, but I’m just not inclined to put something on that’s going to dry out my skin. Overall, this product gets a C+ rating. If you have normal, oily, or combo skin with persistent redness, you may want to check it out.

Lancome Primordiale Night Skin Recharge Night Treatment ($66 at Lancome):

Just as with the last product, I turned to this night cream because I had run out of my usual Shiseido the Skincare Moisture Recharge night cream, and I was looking for something new. The Shiseido is a great product and served the needs I had when I bought it one year ago. But now, I’ve noticed that my skin is puffy and dry in the morning, with the fine lines in my forehead exaggerated. As I am on the brink of turning 25, I’m kind of freaking out at waking up to a Geico caveman forehead every morning. So, I figured I should buy something mildly anti-aging and severely moisturizing. At the department store, I found that all of the night treatments that were anti-aging contained Alpha Hydroxy Acid, a resurfacing agent that helps the skin to better absorb Retinol, a scientifically-backed wrinkle reducer. AHA is also an irritant to people with sensitive skin and rosacea, so those were a NO. This Primordiale contains no AHA and is formulated for my age group, so I overlooked the INSANE price tag and procured some.

First impressions: It smells like old lady. All Lancome has the same rosy meemaw scent, which bugs me. If you’re allergic to perfume, maybe stay away. I’m typically allergic to fragrance, but in the 5 days I’ve been using this it has yet to bother me. Also, the texture of the cream is light and soft, and it absorbs into the skin really quickly. The amazing part is that I saw results the very next morning. No puffy face, undereye luggage GONE! Also, the tone of my skin is more evened out, with the undereye area lighter and the rosacea spots on my chin faded from a magenta blush to a more muted peachy color. I wasn’t expecting that, but it’s so nice!

Upon further research: I skulked around Makeupalley a bit to see what the gals made of Primordiale, and the consensus is generally unfavorable. Lots of girls expressed that the cream was too heavy or gave them acne. Many expressed hating the fragrance. That’s all well & good, but I’m really dubious of what 19-year-olds with a tenuous grasp of the English language have to say about beauty products that are a.) out of their age range and b.) probably being used improperly. Or, maybe it’s that I’m still in the honeymoon stage with this product, as I find it gives my skin the perfect amount of hydration and a knocked-up-with-Christian-Bale’s-Baby glow. However, I have to acknowledge that there are different types of skin out there, and maybe this (whisper light) product really is too heavy for someone with combination skin.

The scale is as follows:





and Nuclear Fucking Winter

I’m assuming my skin falls into the last category, if this cream is perfect for my skin, yet makes everyone else’s face look like a seal pelt. So yeah, maybe avoid this cream if you have anything but dry, mid-twenties-and-beyond skin. For me, though, it’s an A rating. I can’t wait to see what a few more months with this night cream will do.

Hookay! Have a moist little fancy feast in the comments!