Little Folders of our Life

Last week I met Julian on campus for lunch.

He was here to take up a few EMBA electives. He had made the appointment with me via – you guessed it – Facebook.

Over lunch, we caught up with our news and activities. It turned out that as a past EMBA student with the school he could return to take up certain elective courses which he did not manage to take up while enrolled in the programme.

Whenever he was at our Asia campus for his programme, he would make it a point to meet up for lunch. Last week it was no different.

How nice to catch up with an old friend once in a long while. As our conversation flowed, I realized that I had known him since 1996, while at work. He was a broadcast journalist assigned to interview my boss at M1.

And then memories of what we did, how we progressed in our careers, started flowing back. Mentally, I was opening up files in my M1 folder, and retrieving data (or memories, episodes, events…) that I have stored away.

We both lamented how little we managed to keep in touch with other old friends. How starting a family and having little children had given him various constraints. Contacts these days are sometimes limited to Facebook comments and messages.

Friends make up our life, and our past. We may file them away in neat little archives and folders, like treasure chests, in our mental system, but they are still very much a part of us, somehow. I am so glad I managed to retrieve those folders during our one and half hour lunch.

The reminisce was affirming; the conversation was good.

If it's Good Enough for Mum

Recently my annual skin protest surfaced. Once or twice every year, without fail, my face cries out for some tender loving care. I would have a mild case of seborrhoeic dermatitis – little itches and peel around the nose – and I would trudge to the skin clinic on Grange Road. And I would grin sheepishly at my dermatologist and say, ‘’It’s that time of the year again…’’

This time, my regular dermatologist was fully booked for days – she must have been too busy doing cosmetic peels for her women clients - so I asked to see ‘’any doctor at the clinic’’, as all I needed was the corticosteroid cream and the face moisturiser.

The dermatologist assured me it was nothing serious, went over the possible ‘’causes’’ (which I could memorise by now) and even printed two pages of reading materials from the internet for me.

Then he asked what cleanser I had been using. ‘’Some commercial brands over the counter,’’ I mentioned. He suggested using ‘’mild brands’’ like Eucerin, Cetaphil or Hospigel. ‘’So, which one would you like?’’ he asked. I was as indifferent as him. ‘’Since you prefer lathering, then don’t take Cetaphil. Why not try Hospigel, it’s the mildest; even babies can use it. And continue with your regular Squalene – it’s a very good moisturiser’’

I agreed readily and asked, ‘’Yes, I like your Squalene, it’s very soothing. What is it made of, shark cartilage?’’

‘’These days everything is all processed in the lab. Like any other moisturiser in the market it’s made of yeast and bacteria,’’ he replied without batting an eyelid. While I gulped.

So, I left the clinic with a $10 bottle of face wash (Hospigel) and an $18 jar of yeast and bacteria – I mean, Squalene moisturiser.

I checked the internet. Yes, cleansers and moisturizers are made of polysaccharides (bacteria), glycogen (starch stored in liver) and urea.

To think women (me included) had been paying hundreds of dollars for a jar of ‘’hope’’. Maybe the thought of paying for Guerlain or Chanel will brighten your eyes and skin (and hence give you a ‘’natural healthy glow’’). And the thought of incorporating gemstones (La Mer), carviar (La Prairie), or some expensive rose essence (Jurlique) in your skin care will give you the aura of ‘’taste and expensiveness’’ and hence enhance the health and look of your skin.

But a cleanser is meant to do what it’s supposed to do – clean. And clean ‘’safely’’. So for now, I am content with my no frills, clinical looking Hospigel that I could even get at Guardian. And I am happy with my soothing bacteria and yeast – it is not infused with aroma therapeutic essential oil, but it really soothes my face, and is gentle on my pocket too.

Inspired by the simplicity of it all, I went to Guardian to look for a make up remover - another time tested, good old trusted over the counter brand. The packaging is humble but dignified, and our mother’s generation grew up with it. Hey, that generation produced lots of beauties too!

And so I got my jar of $8 Pond’s cold cream, and said to myself, ‘’if it was good enough for my mum, it’s good enough for me’’.