secret: i don't wash my face.

Here's a secret: I don't wash my face. Or I didn't until recently.

I know. I live in the big bad grimy city and I almost never touch soap to these cheeks of mine. 

Matters of the face are personal, no surprise. What's good for mine will undoubtedly not translate to yours. But, I stopped washing my face about six years ago and I haven't looked back. Ceasing to use all manner of sudsing, bubbling cleansers has done wonders for my complexion. But in these last days of February, I began to feel like I needed more help. In case you've also found yourself looking at your face in the mirror and wondering where your youth went, I thought I'd share my latest discovery:

The wooden face brush. 

Maybe I should start by saying that I'm not a products girl. Scoping out Environmental Working Group's Cosmetics Database is enough to steer me away from most things stocking pharmacy shelves forever. These are the exceptions, currently: It doesn't have a perfect rating, but after nearly 15 years of using the stuff, I'm still pretty reliant on Thayer's Rose Petal Witch Hazel toner (I keep on saying that I'll make my own stuff that doesn't include the "natural rose fragrance," but that hasn't happened yet). I also have at my raccoon eyes with a cotton swab and hand soap (no doubt helping along those crows' feet...). And while I've used natural oils to moisturize in the past, this winter I guess I got lazy and I started using Burt's Bees Radiance Day Cream. Like just about every other product anywhere, the inclusion of fragrance ups this product's hazard rating. Sigh. If you'd also like to obsess over the potentials of your beauty routine to be disrupting your endocrine system, head here. 

But don't despair! There's a happy ending:

Over the weekend James and I did some small apartment storage overhauling and went to Muji to buy a new under-the-bed storage thingy. Has there been a study linking that store and endorphine production? No? Well.

While purring over the neatly stocked shelves, I stumbled upon this small wooden brush, which I mostly just liked the look of. When I read that the label called it a face brush, I was sold.

Four days of using it and I'm already ready to shout from the rooftops. I'm not ready to start using any real cleanser with it: just a little bit of the same olive oil-based bar soap we've been using lately in the shower. But really: a few small circular motions in the morning and I have the softest skin I've felt on my own face in years, and I'm not spending any time worrying about words I can't pronounce. Also: it's cute.

If you think you'd dig, you can find one here.

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