Ethan's handI have a confession to make, I don’t look after my skin very well.  At all, really.  I mean I do the basics and take off the war paint each night that I’ve slapped on earlier that day but that’s about it.  I can hear all the free radicals out there just rubbing their bellies with glee, waiting to attack!  It wasn’t always this way, but the truth be told now that I do two thirds of nothing to it my skin is actually the best it’s been in my whole life.  Well, apart from when I was really little.  I’m convinced this is in part to a simpler routine and better eating (well, aside from the peanut butter toast) but am even more convinced that my skin has finally grown out breaking out at the slightest provocation.  Thank God!  I wasn’t really paying attention (cue surprise) but I think it has only been in the past 6 to 12 months that this has been the case.

I remember visiting my grandmother in the Blue Mountains when I was about 8 years old and being fascinated by all her jars of Helena Rubenstein face creams with posh sounding names.  It seemed much nicer than tissuing off my ballet makeup with Ponds cold cream like all proper ladies did in the 70’s.  I can still smell that awful stuff!  Starting my own cleanse, tone and moisturise skin care routine in my teens was all very exciting at the time.  Until the novelty wore off and my skin didn’t seem to improve.  Ever.  It gradually just became cleanse and moisturise.  Then just cleanse and after a few days when I feel really guilty I’ll moisturise.  It’s now at the point where when I remember I just slap some hand cream on my face.  I know, I can hear you gasp ‘hand cream’!!?  I put it on my knees too, when I remember.