26th February 2012
It was a Saturday morning… after the Friday cleaner had been on the Friday. I was in my bathroom, about to launch my daily facial re-starting programme. At 54, the face is dead on waking. Everything depends on vigorous massage with cleansing and brightening products to re-fire, followed by moisturiser to seal in the glow. Handfuls of self-tanning foam are then floated into the vigorous, living surface, giving a deep honey hue for the finished skin.
At present I’m using Glycolic Facial Cleanser for Men by Anthony (but I’ve got bored with it), Max Sheer All Day Defense Lotion (with spf 30) by Peter Thomas Roth and a thrilling new Tan Mousse by Model Co of Australia.
All from Space NK Apothecary, by the way, except for the Anthony Facial Cleanser which I bought on-line from Mankind.
Which brings me to the point. On this particular Saturday, I’m clutching at my vanitory unit, then madly pawing the marble, unbelieving while deep down knowing all too well. The Friday cleaner has a history. Previously a used pillowcase had got wedged inside the newly-installed clean duvet cover. The Eco cleanser spray I had found lodged amongst my cardies.
Somehow she had disposed of my Glycolic Facial Cleanser for Men by Anthony. It was nowhere to be found. Not in the cupboard section of the vanitory unit, not even in the dustbin downstairs where she once threw the furniture polish. I even re-combed the rubbish.
How could it? How could it have just disappeared? Had she lifted it? Had she got a racket flogging fag-ends of her masters’ and mistresses’ products at extortionate prices?
I was further torn because I’d been looking forward to finishing the Anthony Facial Cleanser. Owing to mis-clicking when ordering on-line, I ended up with two bottles. I was longing for it to be over after nearly a year. But, as you know, Poor Little Rich Gays don’t waste a drop. When no-one’s looking they hack open shampoo bottles with nail scissors and scoop out every last drop. In this way, they remain Poor Little Rich and avoid Poor Little Poor.
Even if you’re a multi-multi billionaire, if you waste, you’ll somehow be punished, you can be sure.
So, after a third re-combing of the dustbin, I texted the Friday cleaner. After several days she replied.
You’ll never guess what had happened. It’s just too incredible. Despite sub-zero temperatures, she’d opened the window. Not from the top of course but from the bottom. The Glycolic Facial Cleanser for Men by Anthony, depleted, nearly finished, therefore light, had fallen out, was lying in the Bruce MacBain-designed, Miroslav-built lead gutter below. I could see it with my own eyes.
At risk toppling, of hurtling from my own rooftop, of finally being done in by my own home, I crawled into the gutter to retrieve.
Dearest Adrian – Your facial routine and general skin health efforts sound rather complicated. Why do you not just use REN products (the neroli and grapefruit body wash is divine), like my gayer friends and family (whether poor or rich)?
I am reminded of the passage in American Psycho describing the serial killer’s obsessive facial cleansing routine, I do hope you’re not on the same path
Very worrying
All Poor Little Rich Gays run that risk
Rest assured Jeffrey Dahmer had a perfunctory skin care regime at best.
I too am longing for my shampoo to be finished – am compelled to turn the bottle upside down to catch the last wash – as the packaging clashes amongst the utilitarian shelfscape styled from the blacks and reds of Aesop, Vichy Men (the kindest shaving foam) and Frederic Malle.
How very reassuring