Before J. and I lived together and he used to crash at my studio, I would fall asleep with full makeup on. I might’ve even retouched my lipstick before prancing into bed. I never really slept for fear of a migrant snore. Did I snore? Who knows? But I wasn’t taking any chances. As he stirred next to me, I’d arrange my hair on the pillow so I looked like a princess when he awoke.
Fast forward to 18 months of cohabitation and I’m super-shiny when I come to bed now. Super-shiny as in slathered in an array of oils to moisturize, preserve and rejuvenate me during a night’s slumber. At first, I would wait until he fell asleep and tiptoe to the bathroom and smear some of the greasy stuff on to my face. Now he knows — if I ain’t shiny at 11pm, I may still be going out. To make myself less self-conscious, I’ve begun to slather his face, too. Straight men never moisturize as much as they should!
On special nights, we’ll both expertly apply SK-II whitening/oxygenating face masks and breathe like Jason Voorhees from Friday the 13th while the miracle cream, Pitera, soaks in. While this may not sound super-sexy, neither are wrinkles or dry, flaky skin.
My mother taught me well, she has the skin of an 18-year-old. When I was a little girl, she used to tuck me in, and I’d be engulfed in waves of her perfume. Leaning over in her nightie, she’d whisper in my ear, “Always go to bed smelling sweet.” So I continue her tradition and always dab some perfume or J.’s cologne on my neck before crawling under the sheets. I may be shiny, but I smell good — and you’ll never catch me in sweatpants or flannel granny PJs! Shiny is the new sexy.