Not every beauty product is going to be a hit with everyone. And, as bloggers, we generally do posts on the things we like. So, naturally, we will gravitate to those things we feel we will like.
This is not going to be one of those instances. I totally hate this product. And I really do try to save the word 'hate' for something so terrible, so despicable, so vile to earn this word. I throw around the word 'awesome,' 'cool,' and 'fantastic' quite liberally, though. Yet, those are positive words and even if one would overuse them, they rarely piss anyone off.
With that, I give you the beauty product that I hate...
It wasn't even love at first try. I got the thing thinking it was mechanical. You know, like an electric toothbrush. A swirling shaver of some sort that would file down my rough calluses. No. It was a miniature cheese grater.
But I have two feelings about such a mistake: one, try to get it to work and 2) you spent money on it, try and get your money's worth. I could get the Ped Egg to 'function.' I rubbed on my heel like I was scrubbing a dirty kid's ears. This gross powder was flying all over and collecting on my fingers. I thought the egg was supposed to capture the scaled skin and hold it inside the egg until you opened it up and threw the cheese, oh, I mean dead skin away.
I went to town on my heels and the toes and all those menacing calluses that dared to find their way onto my precious feet. All the time scrubbing harder than trying to get dried wax off a car.
I open it up like Dr. G, medical examiner, looking for the evidence and....nothing. OK, maybe a few bits of dust. Figures, since most of it was flying all around my hands and creating a small mound on the floor below.
Next, on the flat side of the Egg, is a large swatch of sanding paper. Small grit. You are supposed to use this over the newly grated calluses. Wow. I had transformed my own soles into those that rivaled any trail shoes. I had more tread than an old Goodyear tire. I needed to file those barbs o' callus, but good!
And so, I carried on scrubbing again. I'd stop, feel my soles, nope, still torn up. File some more, check, file some more. Then I finally stopped and got some foot lotion and called it a foul (egg...foul...get it?). Dummy me, I did this several more times thinking, wishing, that I'd get the results I saw on TV. Hell, even Billy Mayes didn't push this piece of crap!
Here's one product that I am not going to endorse and I bought it my own darn self. Ped Egg doesn't have the eggs to send this out for a review! It has seen its demise and has, thus, been condemned to the island of misfit beauty toys.
Have you ever bought a piece of poo-poo as a beauty tool? Did you face up to it and toss it?