![]() ![]() Immediately after each session, I like to slather on a moisturizing mask as my face feels slightly dry and exposed. In fact, at no point in my nearly three years with the PMD have I felt any pain or irritation. The company cautions against going over any part of your face more than once, though when I did by accident, it didn’t destroy my skin. After inserting the appropriate disc, turn on the PMD and place the suction cup on your (clean, dry) face and drag it outwards. The guide also describes how to use the device. But I’ve definitely noticed that in the days after using the PMD, my serums do seem to penetrate my skin more quickly. I can’t tell you exactly how much dead skin it’s removed or if my beauty products get absorbed precisely 20 times deeper than before. ![]() PMD’s website says “Once this barrier is removed, skin care products can penetrate 20X deeper maximizing the benefits of skin care.” Using a combination of the spinning discs and suction, the machine is supposed to exfoliate surface skin cells and increase circulation. I wouldn’t call myself an expert, but chances are if there’s something new in beauty, I’ve either read about or tried it. I’ve become the person in my friend group who knows the most about things like actives, occlusives, sheet masks, overnight masks, sunscreens and how different formulas and suspensions affect the absorption of a product. These days, thanks to two rounds of Accutane in my early twenties and having sunk many hours into researching skincare, I feel a lot better. My sensitive skin, combined with a family history of keloids, made managing my complexion feel like an insurmountable challenge. That led to deep scarring and the development of raised scar tissue called keloids all over my shoulders, chest and upper back. But my hormones brought on years of angry acne that covered my whole face and parts of my body, and I picked at those zits with self-loathing. My mom did her best to help, as did various family members, by taking me to facial treatments and giving me product recommendations and diet advice. Since then, I’ve felt like I was battling to salvage my face. I don’t remember exactly how I felt or responded in the moment, but that memory clearly stayed with me. My friend, thinking of homonyms, had renamed it “One pimple, one facial, one single pore.” Our teacher walked in after we finished writing the lyrics on the whiteboard, took one look at the title, and asked the class, “Did you all write that song about Cherlynn?” When I was 12, a classmate and I were rewriting the lyrics to a well-known song in Singapore called One people, one nation, one Singapore.
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