I’m a vain little tramp, I admit. I am also a cheap bastard. That’s why this pin originally appealed to me.
I began as instructed.
1. Acquire gelatin.
2. Acquire milk. Although I am 30 years old, I never can keep around milk that is not expired. I don’t know. I used it anyway.
4. Apply to face.
At this point, I began to fear the worst. In my haste, I applied the stuff to my whole face. As I was rinsing it off my fingers after application, I noticed that it was a little difficult to remove. It didn’t peel off so much as… rip. Hm. Also, it smelled a little funny.
This lead me to Google the actual ingredients in gelatin, which I probably should have known before I applied it to my face. It is “derived from the collagen inside animals’ skin and bones,” people. Ew. Ewwwww.
But it was too late to turn back, so I let it solidify while I made a snow globe.
I felt a little like a zombie. A zombie who can’t move its face and desperately wants beanie weenies instead of brains, but still. Ok, fine, I really only looked like a zombie.
The first peel wasn’t so bad.
Subsequent peels were.
No one told me that the peeling process would peel away not only the junk in my pores, but the top layer of skin and anything that was on that top layer of skin. Eyebrows, the edges of my scalp, etc. As I continued to peel, my soul began to die in tiny, disgusting flakes. There was pain, there was agony, there was despair. And it lasted for 29 minutes.
Know what’s awesome about real pore strips? They don’t take 29 minutes to peel off. By the end, I was wiped.
And there was a pile of nasty.
People, don’t do this. I am not generally in the Public Service Announcement business, but take this as a warning: You will regret it. If, in fact, you decide to do it anyway, though, I recommend you put it right up close to your eyes, all in your eyebrows, and along the hair of your scalp, too. (That should teach ya.)