Brushing my hair as a girl, I remember my hand growing heavier with each stroke as I entertained the wicked urge to unearth every girlish tendril in one fell swoop. The manic, menacing quality of Yoo’s strange architecture reminds me of these early manifestations of my anxiety. Within Yoo’s strange architecture, cold-hard machinery prods at soft aqueous bodies, evoking the (self)torturous and exploitative nature of #wellness “self-love” consumerism. Kidney beans, goji berries, and cosmetic products swim in liquid amniotic-like sacs, their innards sloshing about as a motorized apparatus relentlessly massages them. Yoo’s work prompts us to untangle acts of “care” and “self” and consider wider cultural, historical, and environmental implications. What is implied in one’s desire to gua sha their face off?