“when you meet someone, you meet their face. it’s the most potent part of the body to embellish.” // p. treacy
you see, that’s the thing.
i would (and do!) carry a few too many stone that keep me farther from in the pink than i’d like, (or sea-worthy for that matter), i’d have a dust cloud of frizz above my mane for a year of augusts, or wear my shirts as trousers for the rest of my days, if only i could keep my face clear for the remainder of my time on this tiny blue marble.
hyperbole, thy name is bianca.
i realize, that much like the people who walk around with it – skin is fickle, temperamental and plumb moody. not only does aging making my back hurt, it’s making my eyes crepey, my cheeks bumpy and holy crap where did that hair come from? it’s all making me a prickly pear; and i’m not a prickly pear, i’m all charm and banter, and i want my face to be as smooth and rosy as a peach.
➝ source : eye cream via somme institute
➝ source : resist bha 9 via paula’s choice