The Best Mask in the World, Down Under or Up Over
By Gigi Anders
“Do you come from a land down under? Where women glow and men plunder.” That’s from the 1980 song Down Under by Men at Work. I’m not sure about the men plundering part but as far as the women glowing, I can now see why.
It took a pair of twins, Melbourne-born Emily and Sarah Hamilton, to share their glowy secret in 2017. Say hello to Sand&Sky ($49), a four-in-one Pink Clay treatment mask made in Australia. The native clay is a deep cleanser that detoxes the skin and refines the pores by drawing out impurities, toxins and pollutants. Organic liquorice and Old Man’s Weed invigorate, regenerating skin cells, stimulating cell production, and gently removing pigmentation clusters from the skin's surface. Pomegranate and organic aloe vera refine the skin’s surface by tightening the pores, stimulating collagen production, and soothing everything afterward. The last quarter of this one-in-four wonder contains kakadu plum, kelp, and organic mangosteen that brighten the complexion by preventing free radical damage and creating a “defence shield” to leave the skin clear and – of course -- glowing.
All products work best after you’ve exfoliated, so here’s what I did:
I washed my face with Kate Somerville Gentle Daily Wash Gel Cleanser ($36 - $95), a perennial fave. Then I squeezed a little bit more of it on to my Clarisonic Brush ($129) and deep-cleansed to prep the canvas, as it were, with a smooth, ultra-clean surface. I lightly towel-dried. The Magic Mask comes with a cute little application brush, which I love. It’s like icing a cake with the right tool. This ensures an even application that you can control. The mask went on pink and tingled. It felt cold (in a good way). It turned into a mauvey color and tightened. I’m telling you, this mask is alive until it isn’t. Finally, it turned ice white, and stopped. That whole process took about 10 minutes.
You can rinse off the mask, but I took a fresh baby washcloth dampened with lukewarm water and swept it off section by section. Strangely, my white washcloth turned pink wherever it had touched my face. (Must be an Australian trick.) Then I rinsed my skin with warm water and lightly dried off.
My face was flushed, like it is after a particularly pleasurable encounter with the boyfriend. But there was something more. It felt and looked new. Like, new. Made pure and renewed. Baby soft. Supple and beautiful. It even caught the light, with dimension, like children’s skin. Like nothing bad had ever happened to my face in its whole life.
So that’s the song-worthy Australian glow. Wow. Well, I’ve got the Down Under Glow now, everybody. And I’m never giving it back.