It's scary how happy I am about not washing my face.

Last Friday, an argument erupted in the Fashionista office between me and my typically gregarious coworkers. The topic? Face washing–or, more specifically, my total lack of doing so.

The following is a paraphrase of the events that occurred that evening.

Tyler: Wait… you don’t wash your face?!
Me: Correct.
Tyler: That’s so bad for you! You’re going to get wrinkles! Wait… not even your eye makeup?!
Me: Nope.
Tyler: Ugh no Nora noooooo!

It’s true. I don’t wash my face, like, ever. And my face seems to be totally fine with that. At 26, I can say in all honesty that I’ve never experienced a major breakout in my life. Blackheads rarely afflict me, and pores aren’t something that ever cross my mind. I might get a rogue pimple here and there, but doesn’t everyone?

It’s not that I haven’t wanted to do the whole twice-daily rinse thing. As a pre-teen, I subscribed to every teen magazine in existence. CosmoGirl, Teen, Teen People, Seventeen, and YM collectively taught me that having an oily T-zone was the absolute worst thing ever–and that the solution to 8th grade awkwardness relied on my faithfulness to brands like Clean & Clear, Clearasil, and/or Neutrogena.

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