You can drink your way to beautiful skin! At least, that’s what the note accompanying the Glowelle beauty drink told me. Do I want to be like the 87% of women who had more radiant skin after drinking this beverage for 30 days? Hell yes, I do! Especially as one of the women on the website told me, “My favorite part was the way I felt drinking Glowelle. It changed the way I look, but what it did to my spirit was way better!” The women on the website looked so happy, too.
I am excited about the physical and spiritual improvement about to rain down on me.
And the process doesn’t look all that complicated. There are handy little packets of powder that you’re supposed to mix with water. It’s supposed to taste like lychee and pomegranate! Two flavors that taste reliably excellent in martinis!
There’s only one catch – the drink doesn’t actually taste like pomegranate or lychee. It tastes like chalk. Chalk, made out of poison.
Look, to be fair, it might have been a bad decision to mix it with water. And the package does tell me that it will work with any kind of cold drink (for instance, juice or ice tea). They do not tell me whether it will mix with Diet Coke, champagne, or scotch. Scotch can kill the taste of anything.
Whatever. Obviously, the fact that I’ve spent a few moments contemplating alternative mixes has caused the powder to all congeal on the top. I try stirring my concoction with the sort of freakish forcefulness I might use if I were trying to blend a smoothie. Fail. The powder floats right to the top again, like a horrible atomic purple cloud.
But if I do not drink it all now, I have to refrigerate it, and no, there’s no chance I will go back to it if I do that. So now is the time for drinking this stuff down. Halfway through, I start reminding myself that Elizabeth Bathory supposedly drank the blood of young virgins to maintain her perfect skin forever. She probably would not have thought twice about drinking this chalky brew. She probably would have considered this a treat! Then I remembered that I am not a mentally unhinged 16th century Baroness.
And yes, all of the powder does congeal in the very bottom of the glass, so that last sip? That is the hardest sip of all.
It’s also left blobby purple stains atop my lip that make me look as though I have the herp.
Okay, to be fair, all of this will be worthwhile if my face takes on a movie-star style glow by the end of the month. But given how gross this beverage is, I want it to be a really impressive glow. I want it to look radioactive, but pretty. I’ll let you know how it works out after 30 days. But I’ve got to say, the spiritual benefits of this new beauty regime just aren’t doing it for me thus far.