I have always felt a kinship with Drew Barrymore. She and I are exactly 6 months apart in age and with how early she stepped into the public eye, I feel as though we sort of grew up together. It was like she made the mistakes (looking at you here, Tom Green), so that I didn’t have to. So when she posted a photo of herself using a Hanacure mask on Instagram and commented that it immediately took 10 years off of her appearance, I yelled, “Take my money!” to nobody in particular, though it turns out the mask can only be purchased directly through the company’s site at this time. The options are either a Starter Set ($29), which is one application, or The All-In-One-Facial set ($110), which is 4 applications. I ordered the set of 4 because I figured that if one application took 10 years off the face of a lady who was smoking cigs at Studio 51 when she was 8, four applications could literally give me the supple skin of a naked mole rat who had exited its mother’s body and *immediately* slathered itself in cocoa butter while also, possessing truly impressive forethought for such a young and visually impaired animal, slapped on a sunhat for future protection.
I placed my order on June 4th and the shipment notification email and the actual shipment itself arrived today, July 7th. Is it actually backordered? Hell if I know. It could be a hype-building tactic like when Ello was by invite only (take heed, Hanacure peeps. that shit did not take off).
Anyway, on to the actual product review:
I am a 41-year-old woman with a few skin challenges. I have rosacea which is primarily focused on my nose and is worsened by sun, stress, alcohol, spicy foods, caffeine, dehydration, exhaustion, hormonal shifts, changes in season and temperature, wind, being annoyed at people for being dumb all aspects of my life. I also have sun spots, adult acne and generally uneven skin tone.
Annnnnd here I am with a freshly-scrubbed face and a rosacea flareup, alllllllll ready to get youthful af
Here is how this goes:
You will crack open the Lifting Serum and mix it carefully with the Gelling Solution before painting it onto your face with the little brush that is included. DISCLAIMER: Handling that lilliputian Lifting Serum bottle will make you feel as though you are about to do something illegal, or at least immoral. This was an added bonus to me, but to each his or her own.
The feeling will be immediately cool and refreshing, like aloe vera on a sunburn, and you will park your ass on the couch to wait the required 30 minutes. Don’t get too comfortable.
You will tell your kids that you can’t move your face for awhile, to which your 11-year-old will reply, “Um… okay?” whilst barely looking up from their iPad. Your 5-year-old will look concerned for you, but there will be no time to explain. Because as you fan yourself, as per Hanacure’s instructions, things will start getting tight. REAL t i g h t.
This is the part of the process where you think, “Oh, I’m thirsty. I wonder if I can drink.” Well, you can if you have some stolen Starbucks straws in your kitchen drawer from that time when your toddler was obsessed with straws and you thought, “With how much I’m paying these bitches, they’re gonna care if I steal a few straws? Try me, Howard Schultz. TRY. ME.” It still won’t go well and you will dribble water on your shirt. But who has time to worry about that, when you suddenly realize that you maybe were not supposed to paint the Hanacure quite.so.close.to.your.fucking.eye and it will actually begin pulling your lower eyelid open. You will not feel pretty. And then your children will ask you to make them popcorn… As the tiny dried corn particles begin flying out of your air popper, you will realize that your eyeball, which is pulled open like that of a GW Bush-era Gitmo prisoner who is not giving up the goods, is entirely prone and you have no ability to blink. You will put on some protective eyewear and you will finish up that popcorn process, as you complete your metamorphosis into an actual monster.
Your lower lip has now hitched a ride with your eyelid and is fully prone. You will remember when you were a pouty kid and old people would tell you that you should tuck that lip back in lest a bird should land on it. You will still not be amused by those old people and their creepy warnings.
But then you rinse!
Your initial reaction will be that you are way more red than you were before but that the rest of your skin is sort of blending in with the rosacea patches and you’ll think, “Well, okay then! I think…” That’s when the newfound freedom of facial movement will get the better of you and you’ll start making a series of ridiculous expressions that you really wouldn’t have made during the 30-minute mask process but that you missed having the ability to have made had the impulse arisen. You’ll start acting a fool like Shia Lebeouf in that video that made Sia apologize to the whole world. You will hopefully not be wearing dirty looking drawers and wrestling around with anyone from the cast of ‘Dance Moms’.*
*I was not
You’ll take a pretty good look at your face and wonder if one of the transformative effects was supposed to be the sudden amplification of the scar on your nose from that time you tried to re-pierce it with a safety pin in or around 1996, and your skin will be pretty burny.
But you maybe look younger? Like a day or two? Few hours? Somethin?
Then you’ll pivot like 45 degrees and vow never to leave the safety of More Flattering Selfie Lighting ever again. Not for anyone. Not even you, Drew Barrymore.
Update:
Concerned Citizens! I’m still alive. This is this morning when I woke up (pillow lines and rad hair and all). Less redness, maybe some extra puffiness, and I think the lines on my forehead are smoother. Plus, I sort of look like I’m in a boy band, which is probably a bonus. Shall we ride this Hanacure train until it derails? Probably.
Choo-choo!