Messin' with Masks

I was sitting shot-gun in my mother's car earlier last week, talking about my new job in the city, when she abruptly (in true Asian mother bluntness) busted out with "your skin is looking kind of rough and tired, sweetie..." Um, woah. Talk about coming out of left field, right? So rather than get my feathers ruffled at such a seemingly insensitive non sequitur, I broke the awkward silence that followed by promising I'd try to book a facial for myself soon. (and by soon, I really meant when my phantom trust fund decided to finally manifest itself... as soon as I got that first, third paycheck )

But I digress....

So fast forward to Friday afternoon, about 5:30 pm, and I decide to kick the weekend off with a browsing session at the Market Street Daiso , squealing in delight over the plethora of cute/ useless totchkes such as bunny shaped rice molds or little chick shaped soy sauce dispensers, Asians seem to love so much. Strolling down the cosmetics aisle, I come across a curious item that caught my eye:

Instructions thoughtfully provided in 'literal' En-grish

Intrigued, I picked up the package and read the ingredients. Now, normally, I would strongly discourage anyone (including myself) from buying beauty / health products from a discount store unless it was a brand you know and trust. But I've recently been reading many English-written blogs about Japanese beauty products, and almost all of them have been extolling the virtues of the Japanese face masks. Basically, one can confidently use the products because of :the Japanese consumers demand / expectation of quality even in their 'economy priced' goods. (So unlike some other, less-scrupulous countries, the probability of a Japanese made product responsible for disfiguring the faces off its users finding its way into the US market was highly unlikely) Still, being the skeptical, cynical Westerner that I am, trying an unknown face product is a bit like playing beauty russian roulette...

On the other hand, at $1.50 a pop, what did I really have to lose? But just to make sure, I asked the cheerful cashier girl what she knew about the mask, and she thankfully confirmed that no one has come in complaining about a ruined face...yet. Buoyed by that questionable endorsement, I bought two face masks and prayed I would not be losing my fortune in an attempt to be frugal. (ba-dum-dum). Upon arriving home, I 'Googled' the face masks, and read reviews to make sure (again) no one's face melted off. So far so good. By the time I finished blog-hopping, it was way past midnight. I decide to save the 'masking' for Saturday night and make an event of the evening.

Saturday night rolls around, and true to my plans, I decide to go all out and make my own home spa by playing my Norah Jones playlist, lighting my favorite candle, and pouring myself a glass of red wine. I wash my face with Origin's Modern Friction. Toned with A Perfect World and proceeded to mask up.
 

Opening the Package

So I take out the mask and I am immediately struck by the fact that the cotton- paper mask is positively soaked in a liquid that smells a lot like witch hazel. Putting the mask on my face was a lot like putting an icy cold, witch hazel soaked towel on your face. Logistically, the most difficult part I faced was not getting the liquid into my eyes. This was quickly resolved by having a paper towel handy to mop up any small rivulets. I found that it was also helpful to lie down as the suggested time to wear the mask was 30 minutes. Again, the paper towel was handy to wipe up any liquid that may run down your neck.

Well hello, Clarisse. Would you kindly pass the fava beans?

As I'm laying down in my bed, I set the timer on my phone for 30 minutes, close my eyes, and enjoy the scent of candle as I Come Away with Norah. At first, I was momentarily panicked because the mask was causing my face to tingle a bit. It was a very similar sensation to wiping your face down with some Sea Breeze astringent. As the tingling was mildly pleasant, and subsided after about a minute or two, I began to relax..

Face...Off

 



Before I know it, 30 minutes have elapsed (I was drifting toward sleep) and its time to take my mask off. After taking the mask off, I noticed that my face was feeling tighter and my pores looked smaller. I massaged the remaining thin layer of liquid on my face into my skin (per the instructions on the package), waited about 5 minutes till the liquid was absorbed, then finished with a light application of my night time moisturizer.

Admiring my handiwork...

Looking at my skin the next morning, I couldn't help but notice that my face felt much softer and smoother. I kept wanting to touch my face, but had to control myself lest the oils from my hands undo all the previous night's efforts. The small discoloration on my cheek (where I absentmindedly picked at a zit while reading) looked lighter.  I washed my face with my normal, everyday cleanser, put on a thin layer of Cetaphil, and went along my merry way without make-up.





Despite all my initial trepidation over my face melting off, I was really, pleasantly surprised at how soft and toned my face feels. Now before ya'll go running out to Daiso, please note that my face tends to be oily (prone to break outs especially during that time of the month) and is not super sensitive. This product made my face feel less 'greasy' at the end of my day, and for a $1.50 mask, I feel like this is an indulgent STEAL!
With such a positive first experience, I can't wait to try the other masks I saw at Daiso, and see if its a hit or miss. Stay tuned for more reviews, and let me know if any of you have tried this product. If so, what were the results?