Mistake Whore

Satan's Spray

In eighth grade (yes, for those of you following along, this was less than a year after the unfortunate mayonnaise incident) I committed an even bigger beauty sin – I used Sun-In.

For anyone not familiar with this product, it’s a liquid that you spray onto your hair that promises to give you (and this is a direct quote from their company’s website) “the same natural highlights you get from the sun - only FASTER!” (And before we go any further here, I have to acknowledge the fact that when I Googled it, I was shocked that this product still exists today. I really thought it went the way of frosted pink lipstick and bedazzled acid-washed jean jackets, but apparently I was wrong). The company also says that the spray “Lightens and brightens blonde hair, making it blonder. Brunettes lighten up and look sun-bronzed and kissed by the sun.” This is a lie. This is a big lie. This is like a Tom Cruise “I LOVE this woman” lie.

What Sun-In actually does is turn your hair orange, after it makes it so dry and brittle that pieces just start breaking off at random. I had long, light brown hair that somehow turned the color of old circus peanuts after I sprayed on the Sun-In. And I know I didn’t use it wrong because every single girl I talked to who bought this product had a similar experience.

The orange hair isn’t the saddest part of the story though. That comes when I was forced to get my hair cut to my chin because the color was so appalling and the damage was so bad. I also repeatedly refused my mother’s pleas to just let her take me to a salon and have them dye it back because, as I told her, “Then everyone in school will know I colored my hair.” (What the hell was I thinking? Did I not realize I’d probably already clued them in to that when my hair went from brown to orange overnight? Apparently I was very stupid when I was younger). My favorite memory from this time involved my family driving out of the Lincoln Tunnel to see a bunch of hookers strolling around 42nd Street (this was before the Disney-fication of Times Square) only to have my Dad innocently comment, “Hey, that woman’s hair is almost the same color as yours.” I think that says it all. I’m sending you my therapy bills, Dad.

Now I’m willing to admit that I’m commenting on the Sun-In product that I knew back in eighth grade, so to be fair, I don’t know that the formula in 2006 isn’t better. But somehow I doubt it, because I don’t think that a product that includes the words “Stun your parents” as a selling point on their website puts too much money into product development. Just a hunch.

Oatmeal is Better for Eating

I’m gonna take you back, way back, to a time called the 80’s when I was a youngster reading my Teen magazines religiously.  Every issue would arrive at my doorstep and I wouldn’t put it down until I  had read every single section, sometimes even twice through.  The best part, aside from the awesome 80’s makeup and hair, was the home remedies they always suggested and ALL of us tried – don’t even pretend you didn’t.  Possibly one of my greatest was the highly anticipated Oatmeal and Honey home face mask. Who wouldn’t want the perfect skin that this mask was supposedly going to give us.  So, I mixed up the uncooked oatmeal, honey and egg yolk into a bowl and began to apply it to my face.  Now, take a moment and think about the consistency of this.  Honey=sticky.  Oatmeal=dry, and yolk=smelly.  Mm-hmm.  Now, imagine putting that on your face? Actually, you  don’t  have to imagine because I know you did it too. After my parents managed to stop laughing at me, they informed me that I would have to clean up my bedroom carpet which was covered in a sticky gooey mess.   

When I went to take off the mask and reveal the new me, I realized that this concoction would not be easy to pry off my face.  After much scrubbing, my face hurt, was red, and looked even worse than when I began.  Basically I wasted time, food and was still not going to win the affections of one Jon Rockwell, who I’m pretty sure is gay now anyways. 

Here’s a recipe I found online, pretty much like the one I had used so many years ago.  Go ahead try it for yourselves, and tell me how it works out for you.  I’ll try not to laugh at you.

Oatmeal Honey Mask:  1/2 cup uncooked oatmeal, 3 tablespoons of honey, 1 egg yolk.   Mix all ingredients together and apply over entire face.  Rub mask around face in circular motion (good luck with that one).  Leave on for 10 minutes.  Now, good luck getting it off your face…

Mayonnaise Head

When I was in the seventh grade, I read an article in one of my teen magazines that suggested a moisturizing mask for hair. Made up of mayonnaise. It promised to make my hair shiny and full, and when you’re thirteen years old with straight, limp locks and a school dance coming up, that’s a no-brainer.

So I dutifully measured out half a cup of Hellmann’s and worked it into my hair, making sure to coat every piece, like the instructions said. It was slimy and I smelled like a sandwich shop, but I was picturing the compliments I would get when I waltzed into homeroom the next morning, so I held my breath, wrapped my head in a towel to let the mask penetrate (for full shine potential), and waited it out.

Thirty minutes later, I got in the shower, ready to wash the mayo out and assume my rightful position as a supermodel. So I shampooed. And shampooed. And shampooed some more. My hair still felt kind of slippery, but I figured that was just the steam from the shower and got out – only to scream in horror when I looked in the mirror and saw the grease pit that was currently perched atop my head. My hair looked like I’d dipped it in a vat of Crisco. I immediately jumped back in the shower and shampooed until the bottle was empty. It didn’t matter. Nothing I scrubbed my head with even put a dent in the oil slick that was my hair.

I tried to convince my parents to let me stay home from school, but they didn’t go for it. So for the next two weeks, my outfits included a lot of hats and ponytails and tons of Giorgio Beverly Hills perfume (my favorite in junior high) to mask the faint scent of mayo that seemed permanently stuck to me. Unfortunately, the perfume wasn’t enough to fool my dog, who started following me around with a confused look on his face.

It took around 16 days for the mayo to wash completely out of my hair. And to add insult to injury, for all my suffering, my hair didn’t look one bit better when it finally de-greased. In fact, the constant shampooing made it dry and gave me split ends, so it actually looked worse. Not exactly a junior high memory I like to relive.

The moral of the story? Make sure you test out any beauty products you aren’t completely sure of on a small section of your body before you fully apply. Well, either that or don’t put condiments on your head. It’s just a bad idea, no matter what the magazine says.