My aging skin and body feel dry and cold all over. I need to take a warming shower, but first had to read the New York Times, headlines and some articles that caught my fancy this a.m. An headline beginning with the word “apothecary” propelled me to open up and read the article.
It was about the store, Kiehls, in Manhattan, which purports to be of equal appeal to patrons of such diverse social cachet as “the late Carolyn Bessette Kennedy and an East Village junkie”. Wow, now that’s a broad-spectrum market! Needless to say, I don’t know from Kiehls, never have been in one nor expect ever to darken their doorway. On the other hand, the description of the store decor and lauding of the low-pressure sales staff certainly had refreshing qualities that intrigue me, a confirmed shop-a-phobe. Their major drawing-power for a consumer is their practice of giving free samples of the unique products they sell.
Abyssene Eye Cream is one that sounds like it may provide a petrified and polished firmness in the problem area surrounding the eyes which on aging tend to take on the texture and character of an arroyo in Abyssinia? What am I thinking (hit myself upside the head)? Of course, DUH, I can expect to have the gloriously unlined eye-area of that famous beauty, Nefertiti, whose physiognomy hints at Abyssinian forebears. I am sorely tempted to Google a supplier who could send me some of this stuff, but I fear, in my case, no amount of unguents will make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Rats!
Kiehl’s “signature product Creme de Corps, which promises on its label that ‘ continued use for 10 days will provide a skin texture heretofore unattainable’ ” seems like a desirable concoction with which to coddle dry and aging skin. Could it work? That must have been my maternal grandmother’s main question before embarking on a 20-years long toilette which involved liberally smearing denatured lanolin (right off a sheep) on to her face and throat. (Well, THAT worked for her – she had the most beautifully white and creamy-textured skin, except none of us kids wanted to be anywhere near her as she smelled strongly of the barnyard – win some, lose some!) Did that work for the poor kid in my first-teaching gig up in the Canadian North? She was a fresh-faced girl of 13 whose mother did her the double favour of covering her with bear-grease to help keep her warm on her two-mile trek to the school-bus in Minus 23 degree weather, as well as to prevent her youthful skin from winter chapping. (The poor kid not only slept through classes but also smelled like a hibernating bear’s den – not nice!)
The words Creme de Corps conjures up something which “Renaissance Man”, aka my son, could develop and market in his capacity as funeral director. Only, in his inimitable fashion and with black humour, he would mislable it Creme de Corpse, which would promise the return of youthful and lively bloom to dessicated crones such as yours truly.
On that note, I will now repair to the frigid bathroom and warm myself up with a hot shower, after which I shall speculate on the wisdom of larding up my body. Lard is more or less scent free- and it’s cheap!