Pimples, Forever
I can’t sing today, I’m too busy researching face acids.
The Cure
There’s plenty of writing about acne and similar topics within the beauty industry. I hate the pieces that assume nirvana. Like: here’s how I completely got over myself, and also transcended the patriarchy. Yeah, right! We already get that part! Give us the cure!
I don’t have a cure. But here’s what seems to be working lately:
Soothing Rose Hibiscus Skin Detox Yogi tea.
Kiehls toner
Consistently washing my face
Using only one new product at a time
Sleeping more
Smoking less
Not picking at my face
Clay masks
I usually fuck up on about three or four of these a week, and forget them altogether when I’m traveling. They’re also not standalone habits, right? If I’m using toner at night, I’m relatively sober and going to sleep at a reasonable hour, and apparently rich too, because Kiehls is expensive. Shoutout duty-free airport shopping!
Above all, my best piece of advice toward getting control of acne is to announce that you’re having a “skincare week”. Preferably loudly, in front of your roommate and boyfriend. Talk a big game, so it’s embarrassing if you don’t follow through. Tell everyone (maybe even the internet!) about the things you’re learning, about the facial bacteria, facemapping, and Soothing Rose Hibiscus Skin Detox Yogi tea. Be soooo annoying that you have to do it all.
And while you wait for it to work, wage the battle of the mind.
The Mind
Whew, I’m glad we got that out of the way. Now that we’ve established that I, too, am an imperfect human who has fallen prey to capitalistic standards of beauty and spends real money and time trying to make my face look “pretty”, let’s talk about how to deal with it emotionally.
A few days ago, my inner critic was so loud and cutting that I had no choice but to immediately retaliate with false medicine. Having detected the strongest demons within me, the white blood cells of my ego went into overdrive. Instagram #positivity quotes rushed in, becoming mirror sticky notes. I treated myself, blamed the patriarchy, took a boring walk. Measures for survival. If I had listened to that voice, just then, it would have been the very end. My little efforts were not the cure, but they did buy me time. Time for the everyday comforts of life to trickle in: blaming my period, compliments from strangers, movies with plots completely separate from my ego. A friend’s reframing: pimples as a mark of youth.
“Pimple” is a singular event. It’s that one painful whitehead, or your period zit. It happens every so often, you stress about it, then it goes away. “Acne”, on the other hand, is the continuous experience of having pimples. It’s pimples, forever.
I’ve been working on this Substack for a few weeks, trying to find the perfect thing to say about pimples, forever. I think I honestly believed that in writing about zits in general, I would come to fully accept the ones on my face. But I said it up top! There is no cure, not for the body and not for the mind. I don’t mean to zoom out completely, a sin even graver than the false promise of a simple answer. Ultimately, my offer lies somewhere in between.
I say it as I squeeze my chin: I’m with you bitch. It hurts, it sucks, and no, you’re not crazy, you do see people’s eyes flitting to your forehead. I can’t say enough about crowdsourcing the ego, and ritual helps too. For real! Do a ritual to reclaim power over that loud, scary, stupid thing that’s poisoning your sense of self-worth. Send it a letter, burn its possessions, write an essay but change the names. Dog-ear the page and never return. Quit with warning. Quit today.
Tell it you love it, let go, forgive. Cry when the movie reminds you what happened.
And at the end, remember to bury it.
Cover art courtesy of Magdalene Kennedy. View more of her work here.
Today’s Emoji: The Graduation Collection
It’s grad season, and I barely know any of these people anymore. Perfect strangers appear on my timeline, with their cute hats and faces aglow in portrait mode. The law and med school ones are impressive, because they’re like missives from another world, an alternate universe which I will never inhabit. But the college ones really get to me, I guess because I’ve been there before. I’m like, who is this person? Why do I follow college seniors? Then I’m like, aw, welcome to the adult world little buddy. You made it, 22. So much ahead of you, and so much to be proud of. Who are you now? Who did you find there? Who will you be next?
All of this is obviously insane to say to a near-stranger. When words fail, use emojis. Here’s a set any fresh grad would be lucky to receive:
🍾 ❤️ 🎓 🤓 📚 😎 💫 👏 🌱
P.S. many thanks to @e1kra on Twitter for reviewing the bell pepper so I don’t have to.
The Gossip
I have a whole thought brewing about an expanded definition of gossip, about reclaiming gossip and elevating it beyond the petty corner into which it was kicked. In the meantime, enjoy pages 152-172 of The Life of the Mind by Christine Smallwood. The narrator’s acquaintance’s barstool tale serves as a terrific example of gossip and its many depths, twists, and wisdoms.
The pages stand alone, but you should also read the whole book. It’s cramped and dark and good. Ok do that, then meet me back here in a few weeks so we can talk goss with some common ground.
A Song
A month ago, I uploaded my music to Distrokid, a behind-the-scenes functionary of the music world. With its great, godly, arbitrariness, it did not allow me to decide my release date. Distrokid did its robot thing, running my home-recorded vocals against the world’s music catalog, combing for copyright infringements. I passed the test. On May 12th, at 4:08 AM, the song I wrote in 2019, turned off my phone to write, sat down at my kitchen table and forced myself to write, dropped.
Spider Weather is a dear thing to me, and in classic Close Friends fashion you all are the first to hear about this milestone. A shoutout of deep gratitude and awe to my producer, Jeremy Richmond, for dedicating his talents, kindness, and penchant for all-nighters toward the vision.
Some things I love about this song:
The theramin!!! Thank you Jeremy!!!
My harmonies on the second verse
The album art I created with a free app called Background Eraser
That big chorus, an homage to this song of my childhood and the Atlanta musicians of my upbringing
The two-note guitar lick at 3:31 (it’s like candy to me! Jeremy rocks again!!)
I hope you listen, and I hope there’s something for you in it.