Hi fellow warriors, today is another day in search of. I wanted to be as organized as possible and methodically chronicle this entire process, but like cleaning the oven and purging my closet, procrastination has placed its tentacled grip around my wrists. Instead, I'll cheat and just start with, well, what I've been doing since I was teeny tiny.
My Mother swore by Ivory soap and scrubbed her face, my face and my bottom from the earliest time I can remember. Me? I just loved that it floated in the water, and I could bombard my pretend ocean liner with huge splashes of sudsy water, and violent waves made by me rolling in the tub.
This my Mother did not like, due to the overflowing water on the bathroom floor. The efficient washing and scrubbing was followed by  a full body baby powder rub down and pajamas with that just dried in the sun aroma. This early bathroom series also introduced me to another one of life's great adventures; my Father shaving. The scene: My Father intently staring into the mirror as if he was waiting for the shaving o.k. by some invisible to all others Mr. Gillette. With great care and technique, he swirled up his shaving brush till white peaks formed like heavy cream in a mixer.
The lathering of the face was an art form. It was the Michaelangelo of Shick, Remington and Norelco. I watched as the blade carefully cut roads onto his face and heard the tap tap tap of the razor against the sink. For me, the piece de ressistance was the aftershave. The scent of clean, fresh, sparkly, warm Old Spice filled the bathroom and till this day, although it may be out of favor in 2016, I can lose myself in that smell. My next school of hygiene and preservation was watching my Mother apply makeup.
My Mother was a Maybelline, Max Factor and Revlon girl. I watched with awe as the colors blended and skin was altered and rosy cheeks appeared, and let us not forget the Marilyn Monroe red lipstick. Little did she know I would have that lipstick in my hands and on my lips before she had time to close the front door on her way to the market. That's all it took for this adoration of transformation to grab me by my pre pubescent daydreams and launch me head first into the nearest makeup counter with my earliest saved baby sitting money.
This is how I became hooked. This was my road to the beginning of my makeup and skin care addiction.