E: What are we up to today, oh bossy one?
M: Well, E, we are playing Facegoop to the Rescue.
E: I LOVE that game! Please can I be Lassie this time? I’m sick of being Flipper.
M: No, E. We are going to help Reader Laura with this question she has sent in. Her question goes like this:
I’m begging you guys to help me please? My skin is in meltdown. I’ve had really bad acne since I was like 12 and I’ve been on Roaccutane twice, and a bunch of other crap…so all the zits went away, but now it looks like they’re coming back, and I’m not allowed Roaccutane again. So I am desperate, and decided to contact you guys and ask for any products/hints/ANYTHING that could help and keep my skin decent enough to have a social life…bearing in mind I’m still in school, my part-time work is minimum wage and I consider £40 a cream top-end? Anything would be appreciated muchly! And keep adding new reviews to Facegoop, I love it!! Thankyou
E: Poor Laura. The Angry Monkey Skin SUCKS. We both know.
M: Yes. I have considerable experience in this particular domain, what with my KAPOK BARK SKIN.
E: When I google ‘kapok bark’ I get a picture of a scary black bird with red eyes. Is that you, M?
M: You are laughing, E, but it’s no fun when even your mother keeps on complaining about your skin.
E: I don’t know what Kapok bark looks like, but I’m guessing it’s not a compliment.
M: It’s the bark behind that bird. Craggy. Uneven. Gross. Did you have Kapok bark skin?
E: Actually, mine is worse than ever now, cruelly. I am out kapoking kapok. Small children recoil from me in the streets. I had to cover my craggy grossness with powder today and my brush moulted so I look like a mexican wolf child, but the beard is a good distraction from the blemishes. Apart from a beard, what do you suggest for Laura?
M: Well, I have tried everything. And I mean EVERYTHING. I did Roaccutane too when I was at school. It just made me look dry and desiccated, like a mummy.
E: Always a good look, the Ramses-chic.
M: A mummy with a constant bleeding nose, because that’s what Roaccutane does to you. Frankly, I think it’s evil. EVIL, I tell you.
E: Legal Note: Roaccutane is not in league with the devil. Other satanists are available.
M: I also don’t believe in dermatologists. They either give you a crap ton of antibiotics, or cover your face in benzoid peroxide . Mum-Ra had nothing on me.
E: The only time I went to a derm, he put me on steroids for 2 years to no effect.
M: Were you surprisingly muscular though?
E: I was quite angry and moonfaced. Like a cute, squidgy Hulk.
M: Green, yet cuddly? I saw a couple of French dermatologists when I was at uni. The first one was actually quite helpful. Maybe because she worked in one of those state-sanctioned student health centres, so she obviously had some experience with acne. She made me use this Aderma Gel Moussant face & body wash, made from oats. That shit is good for you. Calms your face right down. Boots have it for £7.50.
E: Oats. People tell me good things about oats
M: Yeah. Horses eat them. They are soft and gentle, like a horse’s mane.
She also gave me a gel called Erythrogel which was quite good. More of an on-the-spot antibiotic sort of thing. My sister the actress slash moddle still uses it.
E: That there is a recommendation. SHE SNOGGED JEAN DUJARDIN IN A FILM AND EVERYTHING.
M: Then I went to see another dermato, in my 20s. Another recommendation from my sister. And do you know what she put me on?
E: Erm. I am frightened
M: You should be. A hormone treatment. You take the normal contraceptive pill, and then you take a quarter of this thing called “Androcur”. Which I believe is an androgen suppressant. I think it’s basically chemical castration. “It’s great”, she said, “You’ll have no hair on your legs, you’ll lose weight, your skin will be fantastic”.
E: Ok, scary French dermato lady, that doesn’t sound terrifying at ALL. Did it work?
M: It worked. My sex drive was also that of an obsese marmot eating a cracker. You know the one I mean.
E: I do. So what’s your actual advice, based on all this dermo-war?
M: Well. I think it’s really about a hormonal imbalance, isn’t it? And your skin being irritated and angry, like a tiny little nazi on your face.
E: Angry monkey nazi.
M: So my advice is really fucking boring I’m afraid. Take lots of Omegas, like evening primrose oil or flax seed oil. Lots of probiotics too. I once went to a crazy indian homeopathist who swore that problems in the gut had an effect on the skin. And he was, like 146 and his skin was as smooth as a baby’s, so.
E: Probiotics worked miracles with my son’s angry monkey back. Sorted that shit right out.
M: And then, GENTLENESS. I’ve noticed my skin has been much better behaved since I stopped using anything with SLS or parabens in it. I really like the Good Things cleanser, as you know, which is sweet smelling and cheap as chips.
E: Legal note: Good Things does not smell of chips. It is supposedly available at Boots, Superdrug and Sainsburys, although neither of us can actually FIND it there. Boots online has it in stock though.
M: I’ve also been using the FAB cleanser and FAB facial cream lately, and I would recommend both for their superior ability to not give me angry monkey face.
E: Another cheap product win, there.
M: There is one other thing, E, but it is very very very dear.
E: Is it ‘stealing the skin of a Russian oligarch’?
M: No, it’s the SKII facial treatment essence. A.k.a. “miracle water”. I have not a clue what is in it. By the smell of it, I would say vinegar and donkey sweat.
E: Sake, surely. And unicorn tears?
M: If unicorns cried diamonds, perhaps. I have no idea what it’s actually supposed to do, but it really did transform my skin. Calmed it right down, and rebalanced the mad sweaty oiliness I was suffering from. I’ve stopped using it now, and my face it still fine, so maybe some wealthy grandmother could bestow a bottle upon Laura instead of an inheritance, to help her through a rough patch.
E: May the force be with you Laura!
Love, your two old kapok bark aunties.
Any other suggestions for poor Laura?