Friends don’t let friends miss out on all the cool, under the radar things they know about, like where to buy ultra-fashionable clothes at decidedly non-runway prices or which little-known beauty brand is low-key making the best highlighter around. And because we consider our readers to be like friends, we decided to gather together all our best tips in a new series: Don’t Sleep on This. Check in every week to see what things we can’t wait to share with you.
I have few memories of what I was like as a child, but there's one that always sticks out to me whenever I describe my personality type to others: that time I ruined the tooth fairy for all of my kindergarten classmates. The year was 2000, and I was just a wee five-year-old trying to relate to the rest of my peers in the best way I knew—by repeating anything and everything my mother told me. My mom, who hadn't had the most positive upbringing, made it her mission to teach my brother and I the hard truths about life, ensuring that no lies festered between us in our family. So when my mother told me that Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, the Easter bunny, and all other religion-based traditions and folktales were, ultimately, a lie perpetuated by parents, I thought it wise to share the truth with my classmates. It didn't go over well.
Despite ruining a lot of innocent childhoods that day (sorry), the lesson my mother taught me—and that I taught my naive classmates—shaped the rest of my life. I am skeptical of everything! Tradition, finding "the one," and—especially—religion are all things that I examined with a watchful eye.
But, in hindsight, while I do think it's valuable to be a critical thinker, I also think this way of being has meant that I've missed out on things because I have a hard time believing in anything. There's just always a dubious narrative running through my head when anyone tells me anything: An invisible man in the sky got you your new job? No, you just did well on your interview! Oh, you think you met "the one" in college? There's an entire world of people you haven't met yet! How can you be sure?
Over the years, I've worked to become more warm and less judgmental (I swear!), but one aspect in my life that still leaves me low-key doubtful is beauty products—especially the expensive ones. Even though I'm the textbook definition of a millennial, one thing I cannot get behind is spending hundreds of dollars on skin-care products. Sure, I love my routines as much as anyone else, but I'd rather get my trusted moisturizers and serums at a CVS or Target, not at some trumped-up pop-up shop that pushes watered-down, perfume-heavy goop because it looks cute. And my skin and I were doing just fine, thank you very much, without the allure of pricey millennial and beauty editor-approved goodies—until recently, when Drunk Elephant's Protini™ Polypeptide Cream turned me—a cold, hard cynic—into a believer. And not just a believer in expensive skin-care goods—a believer in life and in a higher power. Because if a moisturizer like this, one that turns my dry-ass skin into literally feeling like a newborn baby's butt wrapped in silk, exists out here, what else does? Maybe there is a dude in the sky making stuff happen for me—who knows!
This revelation shouldn't come as a surprise, considering that thousands of people have written positive testimonials about the moisturizer online. But a skeptic like me was not about to go out of my way to try any old expensive cream just to find out it does the same job (or worse!) as the other $10 creams I've got in my rotation! But when I did, (and when I found out that it's also vegan, works for all skin types, and made with clean ingredients), I stood corrected.
Listen, the world is a shitty place. Do yourself a favor, especially if your skin is incredibly sensitive and/or feels like sandpaper, and treat yourself to this stupidly hydrating cream.
Drunk Elephant, Protini™ Polypeptide Cream, $68, available at Sephora.