Greetings! Thank you for stopping by. I’ve never been good with introductions, so I will try my best: My name is Bobby and I’m 26 years old (yikes). I have an Honours Bachelor of Science in Biology from the University of Toronto. I had lived in Toronto’s metro area until mid-2013, when the company I work for decided to move operations east, towards cottage country—Southern Ontario natives will understand what I mean by this! Since my job was guaranteed, and because a 2-hour commute by car each day sounded daunting, I packed up and moved with the company. The atmosphere out here is a lot different than the fast-paced city life I was so accustomed to, but I’d like to think I’ve adjusted well. I’m definitely a make the most of what you’ve got type of person.
The name of this blog (skintrovert, if you weren’t paying attention!) is a play on the words skincare and introvert. I wouldn’t say that I’m a total loner, but I do keep to myself for the most part. The brilliant Jann Arden once said, “[Y]ou have to know how to be alone without being lonely. Full stop.” There aren’t enough words in the English language to describe the perfection of this sentiment.
Most people would say I need a twelve-step program to address my “problem” with skincare. How rude. *nonchalantly closes doors to overflowing beauty closet* My obsession, I guess you could call it, with skincare started before I hit my teen years. I have vivid childhood memories of watching my posh European grandmother—also a skincare fanatic — you name a “shopping channel” skincare line, she’s tried it—performing her elaborate beauty regimen. Everyone said that my grandmother looked scary-good for her age. She was; and, now in her mid-70s, still is, mistaken for looking decades younger. I wanted this. Who wants to look old? Okay, I guess some people don’t mind looking old. But I do mind. Does that make me vain? Maybe. We all have our hang-ups. But now, pushing thirty, I still get carded when I order alcohol in restaurants and bars. And at club entrances, the odd time I go out on a bender (yeah, right). Sick pleasure.
Most 13-year-olds can’t afford skincare products, though. Not good ones, anyway. And you can imagine the look of horror on my mother’s face when I asked her to buy me anti-wrinkle creams. My grandmother knew what was up, though, so birthday and Christmas presents always included products that she had used once and did not like, or ones that she got in those obnoxious savings baskets from TV shopping channels (you know, the ones that say total value of $700, but can be yours for only $50 plus shipping and handling!). By the time I was 16, I had amassed quite the collection of Murad, Elizabeth Grant, and Aloette products. On the whole, these products were nondescript to me. Other than sentimental value, I didn’t understand what they were worth, as I had not paid for them myself. One day, after saving a few paycheques from my part-time job at the grocery store, I hit up the department store in the mall with a few friends. It was at the Clarins counter there that I purchased the first “luxury” skincare item I ever owned with my own money—the Cleansing Milk with Alpine Herbs. This product and experience changed my life. If that fateful day never happened, you would not be reading this blog right now, because it would not exist! You can decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. 😉
Once again, thank you for stopping by. I hope you enjoy reading the blog. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, please do not hesitate to e-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org. Please also feel free to comment on the blog posts themselves – duh!
Bobby, A.K.A. – The SKINTROVERT