Egad, shrieked some of us.
Over my dead body, declared others of us.
“Let me get this straight,” said more than one of us, groping for a moment’s clarity amid the Botox madness. “You’re telling me they take the toxins of botulism–a disease that could wipe out half of humanity in a sneeze–they suck the nasty poisons into a syringe, slap on a needle, aim for the face, and inject it right there under your very own skin?”
Uh huh. You got it right, all right.
So we–with our little crow’s feet, our laugh lines, our deeply furrowed brows–we did what seemed the only sensible thing: We ran. To the nearest sanctuary for those with faces that look as if they came with instructions: Crease here. Fold on solid line.
Surely, we panted, once we were safely out of reach of the stuff that aims to make you beautiful by paralyzing the innocent little muscles that make you frown or make you smile or, geez, that aid in puckering up, surely there must be a better way to age with grace.
There are, believe it or not, more than a few of us who think a face that tells a story in all its lines and creases and webbings is a thing of beauty, a roadmap, really, of where we’ve been. (Don’t tell, but we’re not dying to dye our fading locks either.)
And so we set out in search of creams and lotions and potions that ease wrinkling, the natural way.
We typed “Aging Au Naturel” into our computer and (after deleting all the mentions of nudist colonies for the over-50 set) scrolled through testimonials to the dandelion, the iris rhizome and the oil of the emu, that flightless bird from Down Under, long worshiped by the Aborigines.
We got hungry reading of the wonders of something called “breakfast for your face,” a porridge of oats and orange peel, ground almonds and spices, and figured if it didn’t do much for the wrinkles we could always chow down on the leftovers.
We stumbled upon a cleanser “created to work with our chakras,” those New Age centers of energy, that hails from a chic shop on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles, land of the nip-and-tuck, where Botox, don’t you know, is the latest hot item on lunch menus all around town, a little botulism toxin with your boursin, non?
We followed up with phone calls, had great conversations about emus, those Australian cousins of the ostrich that cannot fly but whose oils sure do a fine job on the face. We talked ayurvedic herbs with a lovely woman named Shafi Saxena, who hails from India and who, with her husband, Rob Holdheim, started a company called Better Botanicals, based on the belief that health is beauty and beauty is health.
“It’s not enough that we poison our waterways–now we’ll just inject it straight into our bloodstreams,” said Saxena, leaving little doubt as to where she stood in all the hubbub about Botox. “In the West, a culture of instant gratification, we really think of skin as inert sausage casing–pumping it, pulling it, tucking it, injecting it. We’re thinking of doing things to it, rather than with it. Ayurveda [herbal medicine practiced in India since the 1st Century] refers to the skin as the second brain. Any changes that go on inside our body will show up first on our skin.”
And so, Saxena swears by the lowly dandelion. Might be a weed to you and your lawn keeper, but it’s a “multivitamin stew; one of the most powerful anti-oxidant herbs” to Saxena, who recommends sauteing up a bunch of dandelion greens for dinner, then slathering on some of her Dandelion Moisturizer before you slide under the sheets.
All revved up and ready to unwrinkle, we started dabbing. We wound up plastering. Can’t get enough of a good thing.
Now, drum roll, we bring you our all-natural lineup of un-liners. Keep that needle to yourself, pal.
Better Botanicals Dandelion Moisturizer: Get over the weed thing. This dream cream of the dandelion is rich in anti-oxidants and vitamins, and will make you want to lick your face. Wrinkles and all. They say it’ll smooth away fine lines. We’re delighted to wait. $17.50 for 1.7 fluid ounces; $32 for 3.4 ounces. Call 888-224-3727 or go to www.betterbotanicals.com.
Dremu Oil: One hundred percent triple-refined pure emu oil, rendered from the fat of the big can’t-fly bird. This stuff makes you glow on Day 1. Said to penetrate the seven layers of skin and ease fine lines. Raved about in Vogue, adored by Goldie Hawn, Angela Lansbury and Demi Moore, to name a few, it’s considered one of the biggest beauty secrets from Down Under. $35 for 15 ml (about half an ounce). Call 800-373-4011.
Weleda Iris Cleansing Lotion: Harley bikers love this, according to testimonials from those whose face is their windshield. From one of the stalwarts of the natural medicine market, the wizards at Weleda, founded in Austria in 1921, figured out how to isolate the rhizome, or underground root, of the iris, a flower said to maintain a perfect balance of moisture and health. The cleanser “helps your skin mimic the composure of this stately flower”–or so claims Weleda. Hey, if it’s good enough for the leathery ones on big bad bikes, it’s good enough for us. $18 for a 1-oz. tube. Call 800-241-1030.
Burt’s Bees Carrot Nutritive Day Creme: Carrot seed oil and beta carotene are the natural anti-oxidants that promise to fuel skin cell regeneration and lessen dark spots, blotchiness and wrinkling, so say the folks at Burt’s Bees, a company whose food-based products are supposedly so pure you could eat ’em. We took a pass on a carrot creme chaser with our toothpaste. But the ingredients on the side of the box read like a grocery list: sunflower oil, orange wax, wheat germ oil, avocado oil, carrot seed oil. $12 for 2 ounces. Call 800-849-7112 or go to www.burtsbees.com.
Aunt Vi’s Garden Real Calendula Cleanser: This is the stuff that’s made to work with our chakras, or energy core. We felt like health incarnate after we swiped our face with the herbal wonder. And it must be working. All we want to do is stand on our head and say “om.” $23 for 4 ounces. Call 310-289-7869, or go to www.auntvisgarden.com.
