"Skin has become inadequate in interfacing with reality. Technology has
become the body’s new membrane of existence." - Nam June Paik
To start off this post, I’m going to take a second to brag:
many people have told me that I have “great skin”. I get where they’re coming from since I
rarely break out or develop stretch marks or wrinkles (except the giant one on
my forehead from trying to make my eyes bigger). However, I’m always tempted to reply, “If
you only knew the trouble my skin has caused me”. My skin looks great on the surface, but it’s
been the cause of so much misery that I’ve had to teach myself to be okay with
it.
What made me decide to write this post finally was reading
about Cara Delevingne revealing her psoriasis
at the Met Gala and developing
fear that I will be discriminated against as monkeypox become a greater
concern.
It’s already happened with
someone who has
eczema, which is what I suffer from.
I actually have multiple types of dermatitis/eczema,
but since they’re been mostly manageable, I refrained from calling it a “chronic
illness”.
However, that changed last
year when I had the worst flare-up in my life since college (when I nearly had
a hole in my finger from dyshidrotic eczema leading to open wounds leading to
an allergic reaction to Band-Aids leading to a staph infection).
In the spring of 2021, I experienced the perfect storm of
allergic reactions to beauty and bath products and PPE from my work,
sensitivity to humidity, and probably some stress thrown in. The result was my body and face being covered
in an itchy rash that no amount of steroid cream could treat. To make things worse, I got wounds from
scratching myself in my sleep, and my eyes were actually starting to swell. My skin also became discolored after I
started using an extremely potent steroid that my dermatologist prescribed me as
a last resort.
I wound up taking time off of work because it was too
difficult to wear masks, gloves, and the PPE I needed to handle lab mice. I never had issues in the past, but I think
prolonged exposure to surgical face masks has aggravated the sensitivity I have
for elastics. Plus I am allergic to
latex, and with the demand for masks and gloves so high, who knows if there was
contamination from the manufacturing process?
I am by no means an anti-masker, but I’ve become pretty outspoken about
the need for options for people who have allergies to elastic material. Or really for everyone else who is not
allergic to synthetic fabrics to mask properly so those of us who get face
rashes can wear cotton masks and still be protected from COVID-19. Thankfully I was mostly healed by the time I
had to record for my next show. However,
I still had scars from the scratch wounds and wound up having more costume
pieces to cover up. Having been bullied
as a teenager for weird scabs and redness made me self-conscious of showing too
much of my skin. Healing from that bad flare-up also meant healing from past trauma related to my skin.
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I don't normally keep my corset on for the whole
routine and I was grateful that I could add
gauntlets and fishnets for my New Media look.
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If you remember my quest to accept my body hair, not having
to suffer from post-shave itching definitely sped up that process.
My dermatitis has also led me to change some
of my make-up products because I’ve become even more sensitive to fragrance.
I’ve never used deodorant partly due to these
allergies (also because I don’t sweat much and antiperspirant, which seems to
be automatically added in most brands, poses a risk).
I get irritated when people demand that
everyone wears deodorant or if someone sprays perfume backstage because my
health is more important that someone’s comfort.
Sorry not sorry.
In short, my “beautiful skin” really is just skin-deep. What’s unseen is this chronic illness that
has led to a lot of emotional and even physical pain. I now give myself bimonthly injections of
Dupixent to keep the bad flare-ups at bay.
I still get worried when the weather gets too hot and will never be able
to indulge in fancy or fun skincare products or spa days. My hand washing habits are miserable because
there’s only so much Aquaphor I can put on my hands afterwards, which means I
have to be particularly careful even as pandemic restrictions have all but disappeared. However, I’m glad things are more manageable
now, and I’m fine with this simplified beauty routine. Now if only we could stop destroying the
ozone so I can stop getting sunburns as much...
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