If you move to Quesnel, bring your moisturizer. And sunscreen. Leave your expensive shampoo, because the hard water will eat it, and your hair too.
I’ll start this out by saying that I totally love the weather here. It’s hot and dry and lovely. But dry. And hot. Being a lady with somewhat dry skin moving from a place with ridiculous humidity levels, the change in climate has screwed me completely.
I’m serious here. It’s a good thing I spent the first six weeks inside here, because I’m pretty sure I looked like a wildebeest going through puberty. Again.
The number one product that is currently saving my life is Cetaphil. Okay, that’s a brand, but whatever. Cetaphil everything is my life right now. In the morning, I use the moisturizer with SPF 50 because my skin’s only wish in life is to meet Nicole Kidman and have her skin say “DAMN GIRL.” I am dearly in love with it, because it’s not greasy, it’s light and I can wear it under foundation without my makeup sliding off my face by 2pm.
I’ve always used the Cetaphil Gentle Cleanser because, just like the name says, it’s gentle. The last thing my skin needs up here is some oil-stripping alcohol-based nightmare, so I use this super gentle cleanser that leaves my skin soft instead of squeaky and shiny. Totally love.
Moisturizer #2 was purchased because I don’t need SPF at night, and because I need something a little more hardcore to battle the dryness my skin has developed since its Accutane days. The Cetaphil Moisturizing Cream is recommended for extreme dryness (like eczema) and as a nighttime moisturizer. I’ve only been using it for a week (and that week has been hot as hell), so I can’t say whether or not it’s improved my skin a ton. I love the texture and you only need very little for your face, so it should last me a very long time.
Now for the fun stuff.
My hair. Oh my god my hair. The water here is so hard that when you run it hot, it smells like sulphur. Regular shampoo and conditioner were rendered useless by the stripping minerals in this Godforsaken water. My hair was limp and flat and lifeless and dull and sad. And let’s not even discuss the state of my scalp because it was frightening.
Ta-daa! I resorted to googling cures for hard water hair. Apple cider vinegar (or ACV for the granola crunchies) was the undisputed champ of hair cleanliness, according to The Internet. Most people said to rinse your hair after shampooing in a mixture of 1 part ACV to 3 parts water, so I gave it a try. Note for anyone who might try this, if you get vinegar in your eyes in the shower it will BURN. Burn like an I-can’t-say, because I can’t type things that I will be ashamed of my grandma reading.
Anywho, a few treatments of the vinegar rinse totally did the trick. My hair is once again shiny and happy, and my scalp is no longer a reason for me to stay inside. Despite my fears that I would smell like a well-dressed salad, I couldn’t smell and vinegar scent in my hair.
Lately, I only do the vinegar rinse maybe once a week (if I remember). It seems that the vinegar has fixed my hair, and whatever I’m doing now is totally working to keep my hair from going insane…which is THIS!
Oh my gosh THIS. I read about using coconut oil on your hair at The Beauty Department. According to Lauren Conrad (who I trust on all matters, including boyfriends) you apply it to your ends at night, put your hair up in a bun, then shower as usual the next morning. Once a week I coat my hair from root to ends for a few hours before washing it out, and let me tell you: My hair has never been so soft, shiny and amazing in my entire life.
And I smell like Hawaii. Any little bit of Hawaii I can bring to Quesnel helps, right?
Coconut oil also makes an amazing body moisturizer. I’ve been using it on my legs pretty much every morning and night for the last two weeks. My white as all get out skin is now healthy and smooth and I sound like a St. Ives commercial….sorry. But really. Go out and get some coconut oil.
On a final note, WEAR SUNSCREEN! Every day. All day. Reapply. And then reapply again. You’ll thank me when your skin meets Nicole Kidman. Or when you’re seventy, whatever.