so my hands have been ridiculously dry lately. i don’t know if it’s the cold winter weather or my affinity for washing dishes (true story: i love hand-washing dishes. i have a dish washer but hardly ever use it because a) i don’t produce enough dirty dishes to warrant efficient usage and b) like i said, i really love doing dishes by hand. i think it has something to do with running my hands under hot water and my dish soap smells like delicious ripe pears, also, you’re welcome future husband), or those barre workouts or a combination of all three, but my palms are like the freaking sahara desert over here. it’s not cute. i mean, even i wouldn’t want to hold my hand.
anyway, despite my efforts to moisturize by coating them with cocoa butter every night, they remain dryer than me at a party where alcohol is served (joke?). but then i had an idea. i called upon my thorough knowledge of a little show called sex and the city (heard of it?) and to the episode where the girls are at lunch discussing their secret single behavior (which i’ve totally referenced in the past). the conversation turned to miranda and she admitted the following: “i like to put vaseline on my hands and stick them in those borghese conditioning gloves while watching infomercials.” unfortunately for me, i don’t own a pair of borghese conditioning gloves, the thought of rubbing my hands in vaseline seemed quite messy and i hate infomercials. so i took a little artistic license to miranda’s ritual. i grabbed a bottle of nivea’s deep conditioning hand lotion, a pair of old gym socks (in my defense, they were clean), and cued up my recorded episode of the real housewives of atlanta and went to work.
and by “went to work” i mean i rubbed lotion over my right hand, stuck the sock over it like a makeshift mitten, realized i couldn’t coat the left hand with a sock on my right, took off the original sock, coated my left hand and then reapplied the sock to the right hand, and put the other one on the left hand. voila. i clapped my hands together and whispered encouraging words to my cotton paws “work your magic, guys,” i said.
i kept the socks on my hands for about an hour or so. then i got a text message. figuring i could just swipe the unlock button with the pressure of my finger through the sock, i tried for a good minute to coax it into getting past the security lock. no such luck.
i really hope you’re getting a good mental picture of this right now.
anyway, i had to remove the sock in order to retrieve said text message. so with one hand already un-socked, it would have just looked silly to walk around with the other one on by itself. because clearly i was concerned about looking silly. so i just took them both off. and what do you know? my hands were quite supple.
so maybe miranda was onto something.
but then i looked back down at my hands this morning and that suppleness has once again been replaced by desert-skin. so back to the drawing board, i suppose.
if anyone has any recommendations for other hand-moisturizing measures, i’m open to hear your remedies. but in the meantime, i’ll just be over here with socks on my hands.
dry hands, warm heart (can’t lose).0