Taking care of our skin this summer

I asked my dermatologist, Dr. Reena C. Corona, FPDS, of La Nouvelle Image for some tips on how to take care of our skin during summer.

“Cleansing the skin daily is important all-year-round. Twice a day is ideal—upon waking up in the morning and before going to bed at night. I always remind my patients to use the correct skin product for their skin type: normal, dry, oily or combination. There are times when our skin appears normal but in the summer seems to be oilier, or in cold weather appears to be drier. Our aim in cleaning the face is to remove contaminants from the environment, sweat, excess oil and bacteria to avoid infection. Overcleansing, such as by washing excessively, or overstripping even normal oil from our face would do more harm than good.” (Click Something Like Life for the rest. Photo from cosmeticbrazil.com)

Lead in my lipstick? Eeek!

(READ this girls, and start checking your lipstick brands. You don't wanna go stupid on us right?)

Lipsticks contain lead, consumer group says

Reuters, Oct. 12, 2007

ATLANTA - Lipsticks tested by a US consumer rights group found that more than half contained lead and some popular brands including Cover Girl, L'Oreal and Christian Dior had more lead than others, the group said on Thursday.

The Campaign for Safe Cosmetics said tests on 33 brand-name red lipsticks by the Bodycote Testing Group in Santa Fe Spring, California, found that 61 percent had detectable lead levels of 0.03 to 0.65 parts per million (ppm).

Lipstick, like candy, is ingested. The Campaign for Safe Cosmetics, a coalition of public health, environmental and women's groups, said the FDA has not set a limit for lead in lipstick.

Read the rest at ABS-CBN.

Vanity, thy name is woman?

SOMETHING LIKE LIFE
Feb. 9, 2006

ACTUALLY, this is an inaccurate quote widely attributed to William Shakespeare. What he actually wrote was: “Frailty, thy name is woman” — which a dismayed Hamlet uttered following the marriage of his mother, Queen Gertrude, to her husband’s brother Claudius only a month after the King had passed away. Nevertheless, the quote has morphed over the years to its present “vanity” form. Maybe it was probably created by some editor trying to think of a good title, a pun really, for his piece on why women are obsessed with looking young.

While it is true that we women spend years scraping the bottoms of hundreds of jars in search of the perfect anti-wrinkle cream or moisturizer, and spend thousands of pesos in weekly visits to our dermatologists for facials, men are no longer far behind in the vanity department. And I’m not just talking about the so-called metrosexual revolution.

As I sit patiently waiting for my regular turn at the dermatologist’s clinic, I have come to notice how there seems to be more and more men sitting alongside me. During a recent visit, wrapped in my white hospital gown and resting on my back, I asked my therapist how many male patients she’s handled over the few years she’s been there. She told me that while she can’t remember the exact number, she believes that she has an equivalent number of male and female patients. In fact, she added, “Naku, ma’am, minsan mas maarte pa sila sa mga babae!” — which, of course, amused me no end.

I asked her if most of the men she had treated were of the, ahem, female persuasion, and she said that while a few of them definitely were, there were also quite a number of straight men who are regular visitors. Of course, there are the usual teenagers with severe acne problems brought in by their concerned mothers, but most of the males my therapist has treated are young and mid-career executive types as well as several artistas. All of them just go to her for facials alone. Some usually come with their girlfriends, while the others just walk in alone. She agreed with my observation that there is an increasing number of men now concerned about protecting and even pampering their skin.

Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I mean what woman would want to smooch with a man whose face could rival Texas in the number of oil deposits? After all, there was a time that the only concern of men were getting clean-shaven faces. Seeing an opportunity, manufacturers started peddling shaving lotions and after-shave colognes, promising that women would fall at their feet when they smelled the unguents on their men’s smooth faces.

Of course in the Old Spice days, there were already some men who got manicures while getting their hair cut at their friendly neighborhood barbershop. After their nails were clipped and the cuticles nipped and pushed back, clear polish would be swept on the nails of their pudgy fingers. When I was growing up and I’d see one of these men come out of their barbershops, I would let out a silent “Eeew!” in my head. I noticed that most of the men I saw with manicures were mostly old, with toupees and white shoes. Now that I’m older and supposedly more mature, seeing straight men with manicured nails still make me go “Ick!”

These days, men are buying complete sets of skincare and facial treatments. They have their own body lotions, bath soaps, colognes and perfumes, scrubs and body polishes; they even have their own spa, put moisturizers on their face, and—gads!—even makeup! (Now this reminds me of a former senator and ex-cabinet secretary whom my friend and I bumped into while eating at a restaurant. He got down from his van and upon seeing us, he said, “Hindi ako nagme-makeup ha! Galing lang ako sa TV show!” The comment left us briefly speechless because that was the last thing we ever expected to hear from this politician. All we could manage was a weak “Oh-kay!”, afterwhich my friend and I looked at each other, stunned. Whatever happened to “Hello… Kumusta kayo” or “Iboto nyo ako sa sunod na halalan”? Geez.)

So I have a fiftysomething male cousin, very much married and whom we always kid as being so popular among the females in the city he resides in, he could win the mayorship hands down. At the wake of my brother a couple of years back, my mother noticed that my cousin had such smooth skin for someone his age, considering that he spends a lot of time under the sun because of his job. My Dick Tracy of a mother asked him in front of other relatives if he followed any skin care regimen. My cousin was only happy to oblige us with his “beauty secret.” (Pay attention now.) He proudly said that before going to bed, every night he washes his face with placenta soap and leaves the lather on overnight. This is why his skin is taut and tight, he said. He boasted that even his wife has adopted that same nightly skin care regimen, with the same results apparently.

We couldn’t help but laugh our asses off at the thought of our Cousin, a stud by reputation, being so vain about his face! And this is someone who lives in the province where the pace is oh-so-slow, people have dinner at 6 pm and are asleep by 9 pm! Apart from this, my cousin isn’t given to any other vanities and is quite comfortable with his pot belly (the girls still love him after all!) and wearing plain tees with jeans and sneakers, unlike the so-called metrosexuals of this generation who are passionate about dapper clothes and fabulous home interiors.

In the US alone, the men’s skin care industry has been estimated at $150-$200 million alone. A lot of research and development has gone into studying men’s personal hygiene habits. Thanks in part to the “himbo” syndrome and marketing geniuses, growing numbers of men are now conditioned to think that taking that extra step in protecting their complexion isn’t so gay after all. It’s just part of good grooming. Undoubtedly, Queer Eye for the Straight Guy has been a real influence as well. (“Real men exfoliate!” screamed a Boston Globe headline a few years back.) We will probably delude ourselves thinking they’re doing all this upkeep for us. Not on your life. They’re doing this all for themselves. If Shakespeare was living today, I wonder what he’d say about that.

(My column, Something Like Life, is published every Friday in the Life section of the BusinessMirror. Photos borrowed from the web.)

The case for aging

As the average life span has lengthened with better health care, senior citizens continue to lead bustling lives, enjoying activities and even hobbies they perhaps never got the chance to pursue when they were younger.

Something Like Life
Jan. 12, 2007

WHO would’ve thought that the most controversial topic I would ever write about were my crow’s feet! (Something Like Life, January 5, 2007) Gee, and I thought the readers were more interested in my ruminations on illicit relationships, passionate kisses, and lustful longings across the office cubicle!

To this day, I’m still getting text messages and comments from friends swearing on their lover’s/husband’s mother’s second cousin’s dog’s grave that the anti-aging product they’ve been using has helped them keep looking youthful. One publicist has also been in touch trying to convince me to try the anti-wrinkle cream her client has been hawking.

My sister, for one, told me about this relatively inexpensive wrinkle correction cream from this ubiquitous personal products manufacturer. Her friends are raving about it and claiming it to be “better than Botox!” Now, they are the types that lap up all sorts of expensive new branded gunk on the market and have enough funds to actually get a face lift! So maybe this product is worth looking into.

One friend also talked about how a sixtyish corporate communications executive of a large beauty products maker still manages to look young just by using her company’s products. (That’s what the executive claims anyway.) I’ve met this lady and I actually thought she was only in her late 40s! Well, I’ve just bought that company’s wrinkle correction cream and I will definitely update you on whether it works or not.

Laugh lines aside, getting old really isn’t the end of the world, as more and more people are realizing.

Decades ago, when one reached the retirement age of 60, he was expected to enjoy only a few short years with his grandchildren, then probably die of a lingering illness, or—worse—be a bane to his children by becoming incontinent and demented.

These days, as the average life span has lengthened with better health care, senior citizens are still leading bustling lives, enjoying activities and even hobbies they perhaps never got the chance to pursue when they were younger.

I can look only to my mom and her amigas as examples of “silvergenarians” still leading very active lifestyles, wrinkles and all. I call them the “Ladies Who Lunch”—thank you, Barbra Streisand—because almost every month they get together and celebrate someone’s birthday by eating out. Of course a few weeks before their lunch date, they have little arguments among themselves which restaurant they should go to. My mom constantly complains about how her gangmates never seem to see eye-to-eye on where to go. A most cantankerous bunch of senior citizens if you can imagine, though in a funny old people sort of way. (Think Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon in Grumpy Old Men.)

My retort to my mom, of course, is the usual “Just go to a frigging fastfood center and let everyone choose what they want to eat.” Of course, she never pays any attention to any of my suggestions. (Hopefully, this is not a preview of how my own gang will behave as we thumb our way toward Golden Acres. Instead of arguing about which restaurant to go to celebrate someone’s birthday, perhaps we will be content with our regular “immoveable feasts” of sinigang na baka and binagoongan na baboy.)

Some of my mom’s friends are widows, have husbands who have left them, sickly, or just plain loony (again, in a loveable senior citizen sort of way). And yet they all seem to be enjoying themselves even as they approach their 80s. One goes ballroom dancing a lot and has had a young lover; another is going off to the North with her travel club of fellow seniors; one is still busy running her own company; while the others are quite content babysitting their grandchildren or waiting on their grown-up, married children to visit on weekends. If my mom isn’t out playing mahjong or shopping, she is at home fighting with me for the control of the TV remote. Damn those afternoon soap operas!

According to the National Statistics Office, the number of senior citizens in the country is expected to reach seven million by the year 2010, from the current 5.6 million. The same data also shows that 60 percent of our senior citizens are married, although females dominated the single (71 percent), widowed (76.5 percent) and divorced/separated (57.26 percent) groups. Which says a lot, I suppose, about how elderly women view their lot in life. They are definitely okay being solo. Most of them don’t want to remarry, and have things to do other than obsess about romance.

I particularly admire this one tita of mine who is the most dynamic and perhaps most liberated among my mom’s friends. She’s had a few lovers since her husband passed away decades ago. Asked why she wouldn’t marry her present boyfriend, a widower of her same age, she said she didn’t want to get stuck taking care of someone. What if he got sick? And of course, she wouldn’t be able to just take off to enjoy her own activities with someone watching over her shoulder. Heavens! I told my mom that my tita is more “progressive” than even most single women I know.

Thus, the elderly Filipina will have intimate relationships with men (younger or as old as her) but not necessarily with an eye to get hitched again.

Elsewhere, aging men and women are getting “with it.”

Just check out some local bazaars and you’ll pick up a few items made by this and that “lola” now making money from their cooking hobbies, suddenly free from the rigidities of a 9-to-5 career or from taking care of husbands.

A good friend’s husband also retired at 60 a few years ago, but is still consulting for his company and runs a few businesses on the side. He and his wife also travel more these days.

In Japan, where the elderly is about 19 percent of the total population, Yuichiro Mira climbed Mt. Everest in 2003 at the ripe old age of 70! He plans to do it again next year, at age 75.

Another Japanese, Motoko Nakano, 84, is now officially a guide on the “Silk Road” tours for her fellow elderly travelers, after having toured China about 10 times. A widow and former restaurant owner, she is a frequent traveler, often researching on the Internet to plan her itinerary.

So it is wrong to think that when one ages, one becomes inept and useless. More than the crow’s feet, laugh lines and occasional sore joints, aging is probably a chance at a new and challenging fun-filled lifestyle.

(My column, Something Like Life, is published every Friday in the Life section of the BusinessMirror.)

Aging, or ageless?

Unfortunately, there are realities we women have to face, one of which is that the world celebrates youth and its glowing tans, reed-thin dimensions and clear fresh faces. And most often, relationships are formed on first impressions.

Something Like Life
Jan. 5-6, 2007

TWO days before New Year’s Day I made a devastating discovery.

I was seated at my dresser putting on makeup for a trip to the mall when, to my horror, I saw tiny fine lines beginning to form around the outer corner of my eyes.

Eek! I screeched. Crow’s feet!

I couldn’t help but go overboard with the concealer and patted just a tad more than usual to try to erase the superfine indentations. They may not be visible to most people but as I scrutinized every inch of my face, the lines seemed to multiply and I started noticing a few crinkles forming on my forehead and—dear me!—laugh lines!

What a way to greet the New Year! Here I was feeling all chipper after having just survived Christmas, now looking like an old hag. Why couldn’t I look like one of the Witches of Eastwick instead?! Sexy, looking youthful, all spruced up and ready for Jack Nicholson’s taking!

I blended the concealer ever so gingerly to make sure all spots and lines were covered, or at least visibly minimized. As I swept the foundation all over my face, then applied the rest of my makeup, I calmed down a bit, secure in the vision of beauty that lay in the mirror before me. I was young again!

It was one of those times when I wished I were a man instead. Notice how crow’s feet, eyebags and a lined forehead make George Clooney even more handsome? Remember gorgeous George romping around the first two seasons of ER when he was thinner and in his early 30s? And now at 45, despite the rounder heavily lined face, he is the Sexiest Man Alive of 2006, according to People magazine.

I couldn’t help but think that this is one of Nature’s cruel jokes on women. I mean, women’s lives are already so much more difficult with pregnancy; do we have to look like crones as soon as the lines start crisscrossing our foreheads and our cheeks start sagging into jowls? On the other hand, as males grow older, graying hair makes them look distinguished fine gentlemen. Even wrinkles on their faces make them appear respectable.

I know it sounds silly for me to fret over a few hardly visible lines around my eyes. Haven’t I always said that 40 is the new 30? So I may feel young but my complexion appears to be having difficulty keeping up with me.

Unfortunately, there are realities we women have to face, one of which is that the world celebrates youth and its glowing tans, reed-thin dimensions and clear fresh faces. And that most often, relationships are formed on first impressions. Judgments are made on one’s appearances instead of one’s character. Have a male CEO choose between a clueless pretty young thing and a woman with a matronly appearance and demeanor, and you can bet whom he would choose to hire as his secretary—yes, despite the latter probably having better qualifications and experience for the job.

Once time starts marching across our faces, it’s time to book the Botox, ladies! Not that I would undergo those toxic injections myself. Besides, on a journalist’s salary I wouldn’t be able to afford them. Still, if I had enough funds, would I have Botox to freeze age in its tracks, albeit temporarily? Hmmm....

Of course, I have no one to blame but myself. In my youth, I worshipped the sun and used tanning oil on my face and entire body quite liberally. Being quite fair in complexion, I would have to sunbathe for two days under the noontime sun just to get a golden tan. Heck! No one talked about skin cancer and melanomas back then!

Once I reached 30, however, and all scientific studies talked about the horrific dangers of sun worship on the skin, I junked my annual summer sunbathing ritual. I went into overdrive trying to protect my face, especially after a therapist at a skin care center told me that my face was suffering from sun damage. The closeup photos of my complexion didn’t look too appealing—it was red and splotchy. I was now condemned to face a lifetime of moisturizers and inspecting the SPF on each sun block on every cosmetics counter.

So like many other women, I have joined the growing numbers in buying expensive facial products in a bid to keep wrinkles at bay. This is no easy task, mind you, as there are many brands which purport to be the best and the most effective antiaging, anti-wrinkle, line-correcting cream ever to arrive at a beauty counter. Just think of the millions of jars of this stuff that is sold by the minute everywhere in the world. The quest for the fountain of youth in a beauty jar is merciless. Women spend huge amounts of money every year in an almost desperate attempt to beef up their skin-care regimen.

Of course, you could say, “Why bother with all that gunk for our faces?” Can’t we just all relax and simply age gracefully like, say, Susan Sarandon or Katharine Hepburn who kept on working despite being afflicted with Parkinson’s disease. Kate was a real beauty, a diva even, right until she passed on.

Well, a popular facial soap brand last year began a campaign for real beauty...putting fat and old people on their print ads and billboards. The “ageless” ads showed a smiling woman with white hair and a creased face. Despite this, we know for a fact that cosmetologists and plastic surgeons will still be booked back-to-back this year in an endless round of treatments for women conscious of their crinkly crow’s feet, burgeoning puson, sagging bottoms and deepening laugh lines. And women’s magazines will not stop putting the same youthful anorexic-looking models on their covers.

The reality is, all women want to be young, thin and gorgeous despite their accomplishments, their fine character and the praise they have garnered for their success.

Despite studies that show none of these beauty creams come close to fulfilling all their youthful promises, we will still keep buying them in the hope that one would prove to be the real deal.

And if by any chance I win the lottery tomorrow, perhaps I too would make a beeline to the best dermatologist for a fixer-upper.

(My column, Something Like Life, appears every Friday in the Life section of the BusinessMirror.)