The Derma Sucker
Updated: May 6, 2022
I had a week off, gang. A week of real vacation time, which is unusual for us authorly folk. We usually have writing, editing, revisions, promotion—sometimes all at once. Then there’s social media, which is always delightful, but can be a rabbit hole, too, sucking up the hours.
This time, I took a real vacation. No social media, no new book to get started, appearances and interviews for PACK UP THE MOON officially finished. So what was a woman, alone for four days with her dog, to do?
Obviously, the answer is buy a weird skin care product. Yes, it is a skin care product, no matter what else it might remind you of (dirty minds, all of you). Derma Suction! It was in the As Seen on TV aisle of my local Walgreens, and its price had been cut from $20 to $1.99 (which should have told me something right there). I had to have it.
And so, I texted a photo of it to the Princess, who shares my love of weird skin care products. She said, “You have to get it!” and I responded with “Oh, I did.”
Clearly, this thing would work, because A) look at the woman in the photo. She has beautiful skin. And B), well…it would suck the gunk out of my pores! It was battery-powered, so you knew it was legit. Also, C) look at the cartoon woman! She also has flawless skin.
Thus, I began my process with great joy and excitement, ready to suck the yuck out of my skin, as advertised. First step, open those pores with a warm face cloth. I dozed off and woke up to a cold face cloth, but hey. Then, onto the deep clean the brochure promised. See that plastic well? Soon, it would be filled with impurities, which I could then photograph and send to my children and sister as torture.
The Derma Suction did suck my skin. It was like having a tiny vampire clamp onto my face. Then I’d pull it off, and move it. I kept yelping in surprise, which made Luther come into the bathroom to check on my wellbeing.
I used as directed, waiting for the yuck holder to fill up with impurities. After a half hour or so, I checked the results. The plastic well was tragically empty.
Aside from looking like I’d been in a fight with a small octopus, my skin was—shocker—not noticeably different. I had no nasty chunks of…I don’t know…pine sap or salt from the ocean in the Derma Sucker. Just small rings of red dotting my face.
Totally worth those two dollars. I can’t wait to make the Princess give it a whirl.