My Boy-Period-Skin Remedies

As most of you have probably worked out by now, I am a boy/male/unfemale. So, like, it’s impossible for me to menstruate. So my non-existent vagina doesn’t bleed. But my soul does. At how bad my skin is right now. CHRIST. Yeah that’s right, I’m on my boy-period.
Publish date:
October 17, 2012
periods, spots, boy periods, bad skin, sudocrem

Seriously, boy-periods are a thing.

Once a month, my skin goes to shit and I get all teary and emotional over everything. And I KNOW this is NOTHING compared to a girl period. But, really, I understand. If you take away the blood, the discharge, the dull and unrelenting pain that manifests itself in the core of your being, if you disregard all of that, then I understand. Kind of. Not really. But emotions-wise, I think I might.

I’m currently on my boy period and my skin is really bad. I know it looks okay here, but that’s only because I’ve plastered it in mountains of makeup before I took the picture because I really cannot bear to show you my spots. #boyperiodissues

I usually have to have a good cry once a month, too. Even if it’s over nothing: I used to sit on my bed and watch the Revolutionary Road trailer and just sob at it, feeling sorry for myself as Kate and Leo’s shattered American Dream reflected in my watery, self-indulgent eyes. Fucked up I know, but, hormones.

Anyway, back to my imaginary ovaries. Around once a month, my skin goes dry and red and sensitive... and it’s just all kinds of diabolic calamity and first world problems that make me feel like I hate myself. So, I will share with you what I do to combat this monthly breakout/breakdown.



Sudocrem is like a gift from the skin-cream-gods, a celestial beacon of clinical white mud paste that makes your skin better overnight. But, like, you can NEVER wear it in public. That’s the second golden rule. Because if you cover your face in Sudocrem and go out in public, you’ll just look like, well, some kind of deranged cosmetic psychopath. The best time to do it is under the cover of darkness, where you will blossom from spotty period nightmare-face into glowing poreless beauty, overnight. It will go all over your pillows, and it will feel icky. But it will work!

It soothes the skin, relieves redness and irritation, and gets rid of flakiness AND oiliness. I usually put it on about once or twice a week. Also, I pronounce it like SudoCREM, not SudoCREAM. I asked the woman in Boots if she knew where the Sudocrem was, and she was like ‘Sorry, I have no idea what you mean.’ And I had to explain it to her and then she said, with a patronising realisation: ‘OH! You must mean SudoCREAM!’ That really upset me.

Lush: Angels On Bare Skin Cleanser

It looks like a pot of grey cheese.

I wash my face with this, in the morning in the shower. It’s a weird organic-looking soil thing in a pot that has little specks of lavender in it. The ground almond bits gently exfoliate and the lavender oil and rose water soothe the skin. I use a pea-sized amount which I mix with warm water and smear on my face.

Clinique Anti-Redness Cleanser

I’ve tried the whole anti-redness range from Clinique, and their cleanser is their best anti-redness product by far. I use it to take my makeup off in the evenings. I rinse my face with water first, then dry it, then massage the cleanser into my face for about 60 seconds, and then rinse it off with warm water. It leaves your skin pillowy soft and calmed-down.

Dior Hydra-Life Skin Perfect Moisturiser

I think it costs around £30, but it has lasted me over six months. It’s more like a gel than a moisturiser, and smells a bit like alcohol and stings my spots. But it’s a super duper makeup-base, and anyway, I kind of like the stinging. It makes me feel like it’s working.

The last bit of advice I have is to allocate some alone-crying-time. Watch a particularly intense film trailer, or listen to a dramatic song. Or scream at the woman in Boots, clutching her by the collar, desperately asking her over and over why she didn’t understand you, whilst hot tears stream down your contorted face, which happens to be slathered in white, greasy, glorious sudoCREM.

Follow Ashley on Twitter @ashleyjclarke