I need Crepe Erase. For my face.

It's not that I don't have crepey skin in the usual places. I'm sure I do. Jane "Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman" what's-her-name has showed me multiple times how to apply crepe erase to my arms and upper chest and I think neck. It's just that I'm overweight and  live in the frozen north, so those areas rarely, if ever, see the light of day.  

On the other hand, I've developed twin patches of crumpled looking skin just south of my irises and smack on top of my cheekbones. As a consequence, I've started putting extra eye cream there. But I'm not convinced that it's doing all that much good. 

Is this the dreaded fine lines and wrinkles that Bobbi Brown keeps telling me prevent me from looking good in traditional foundations? I mean, maybe it is, but I'm here to tell you that these fine lines and wrinkles aren't doing much for my spanking clean, freshly moisturized face, either.

I can't decide whether I should start with the gizmos being shilled on TikTok and YouTube, like the LED mask

or the 24 karat gold micro-needle stamping set

or just suck it up and head to my plastic surgeon.

It sounds like I'm kidding, but I actually do have a plastic surgeon. This is because my dermatologist is very interested in skin cancer and not at all interested in the fact that I don't look as young as I used to. So after my millionth full body scan to make sure I don't have skin cancer--again--and my hundredth tantrum about looking like Methusaleh's mother, he referred me to what I thought was a vanity dermatologist. Someone who could freshen me up, a la Goldie Hawn in First Wive's Club. But it turns out she's a bona fide plastic surgeon (with skin like buttuh, I might add) and if I hadn't mentioned a questionable sunspot on my left calf, I might have been talked into all kinds of scary and expensive procedures. As it was, I was biopsied and sent on my way.

But I could always go back and get fractional lasered or whatever.

Or maybe I should just drink more. WATER, of course.