Skincare is my thing. Every day I think carefully about what I put on my skin/what I should put on my skin/why I haven't put that "thing" on my skin yet. Masks, serums, creams, exfoliants, moisturisers and facials are factored into my finances before adult things like health insurance and servicing my car (to the horror of both my accountant and my little car). So you can see I really, really care about my skin.
Recently I was invited to visit a skin clinic and gently pushed into shaving my face. How did I let this happen? That's not important. What is important is that I can't say no, especially to a lady with kind eyes and amazing skin (important) holding a teeny blade up to my kisser.
The act of shaving ones face is called dermaplaning — a supercharged form of exfoliation that uses a scalpel blade to shave the dead skin and peach fuzz from your face — and it has become a bit of a trend in beauty circles. Beauty oracle Zoë Foster Blake "dermaplaned" her face before the Logies and looked stunning, but putting razor to face wasn't in my 12-month skincare plan!
In the moments that immediately followed "Hello! Let me shave your face!" I had thoughts . . .
- Could I be guaranteed ZFB's amazing complexion post-shave?
- I am my father's daughter (obvs) and I see what happens to his face when he shaves daily — a 5 o'clock shadow at 10:30 a.m. isn't something I want for me.
- What if she slips and slices my face open?
Obviously, I wasn't too clued up on the process. I was sure my multimillion-dollar (it feels like) collection of beauty lotions and potions was all my face needed — a razor? No way, José. But once the blade-wielding therapist started talking me through the process, I felt more at ease. Everything she was saying didn't sound like I'd be sporting stubble for the rest of my days. "Sure! Go ahead, shave my face, why not?" I said, completely faking confidence.
Keep reading for the results.