I tried this viral influencer trend, I looked like Hannibal Lecter

I don’t mind snoring, drooling, or crying while watching a movie on a plane, so why does taking care of my skin make me feel self-conscious?

A couple of years ago, I was on a flight from Sydney to Geneva and flying – as I usually do – in economy. 

I was writing a story about all the things beauty editors swear by to save your skin on a plane and I removed makeup, moisturised, serumed and reapplied my little heart out, using a bunch of very cute travel-sized beauty products. Heck, I even spritzed some toner in my seat mid-flight. But putting on a sheet mask really pushed me to the limit.

For the uninitiated, a sheet mask is a paper mask soaked in a serum that you place on your face – aligning the pre-cut eye and mouth holes – and leave on for the recommended time before removing to reveal, one hopes, softer, glowing, younger-looking skin.

Influencer types often make Instagram stories mid-flight to show us theirs, all cosy in their pastel sets, effortless messy buns and noise-cancelling headphones. In business class. Where no one can see them. Yep, it seems that 1-2-1 fit-out just works for skincare.

But – surprise! – I am not an influencer. And, as I mentioned, I was in economy. So while I loved feeling cleansed, toned and moisturised post-mask, I hated every second of the 15 minutes spent sitting in my seat looking like Hannibal Lecter that was required to “soften pores, lines and wrinkles, leaving skin supple and glasslike”. It just felt so... personal. And so… visible. And I had even scored an entire middle row to myself.

I hated every second of the 15 minutes spent sitting in my seat looking like Hannibal Lecter. 

I don’t know why I was so freaked out. I mean, I can sit there eating a bread roll that disintegrates as soon as I bite into it and not care who watches me picking crumbs off my iPad (and erm, eating them). I can ugly cry as I watch One Day, Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy or any other sappy rom-com and not give two hoots that the man next to me is doing everything in his power to avoid looking at my snivelling face. 

I can wake myself up drooling onto the pages of the in-flight magazine and not bat an eyelid. I can get my headphone wires caught up in my neck pillow drawstring and spend 40 minutes trying to stop myself get strangled and not care who sees.

But that day, while I could remove my makeup and slap on moisturiser, for some reason I felt weird about sitting there with a sheet mask on my face while the people across the aisle averted their gaze. It just felt too intimate for someone sitting in seat 66F.

I’m sheet-masking and moisturising my way to Europe this year and I’m not afraid to admit it.

But now I’m thinking I need to change my outlook when I fly. It’s time for me to get with the (skincare) program. Smaller pores and refined texture wait for no man (or woman). Are you with me? It’s time for us all to embrace the uncomfortable so that we can all enjoy slick, moisturised, plumped and perfumed skin on arrival. I mean, if we’re prepared to sleep next to snoring, drooling, leaning strangers (who also eat wayward crumbs, strangle themselves with their tech and ugly-cry at movies), then we shouldn’t bat an eyelid at a mask, right?

I’m sheet-masking and moisturising my way to Europe this year and I’m not afraid to admit it. In fact, I’m headed to Paris soon and I am planning an all-out skin assault, including eye treatments, serums and as many sheet masks as I can fit in my carry-on. Indeed, I’ve added a few to my cart already, and highly recommend the Go-to Transformazing mask (six masks for $55) as a starter, and La Mer’s The Treatment Lotion Hydrating Mask (six masks for $245) as the pricier pinnacle, but you do you.

Just need to get myself some noise-cancelling headphones (cordless, of course), master a messy bun that doesn’t just look, well, more messy than bun, and shop for a pastel set. Who’s with me?

Originally published as I tried this viral influencer trend, I looked like Hannibal Lecter