#23 In Pulchra Veritas...

Having been suckered into the Facebook boom several months ago, I have to say it's put more than a few smiles on my face. Old school mates, uni friends, work colleagues and long-lost acquaintances all in one bustling, social cyberspace that's far more fun than the clinical climate of Friends Reunited. Poking, gifting, messaging and scrawling overly emotional messages on a sibling's wall space are what it's all about and I check in at least once a week to see what's going on. My favourite bit so far? The inexplicable popularity of the cult community Caecilius est in horto, which not only reminded me of my wonderful, inimitable Latin teacher, but also the doomed lives of the Pompeian family, Metella, Quintus, Clemens, Grumio and the mischievous little dog, Cerberus, painted so vividly by the Cambridge Latin Course. Ah, it's nice to reminisce. But once you begin, you just can't stop, which is where I currently find myself...

The first item of make-up I bought? A clear, colourless mascara from Boots 17. Then a shimmering, nude pink from Boots Natural Collection and a little bottle of scent - once again from Boots - in a triangular bottle, with a black plastic lid, that was called something like Infinity, or Inspiration, or my sister thinks it might even have been called Atmosphere. I can't remember the name because it rubbed off within months of my buying it, but whatever it was called, it was fresh and icy with a sweet heart and I loved it so much that it went through three house moves with me - until I finally lost it about five years ago. Boots was my teenage make-up Mecca. I remember the slightly breathless feeling I would get on reaching the top of the escalator. My cousin and I would spend hours, utterly engrossed, smelling, testing, pouting and preening into the distorted foil mirrors that used to be stuck on the in-store display units and blow the majority of our pocket money there every Saturday afternoon.

A year later and I'd graduated onto eyeliner. Rimmel was my first - an unflattering minky brown that was too light for my complexion - followed by bronzing pearls from The Body Shop - a real extravagance at the time. The Body Shop was also where I had my first skincare experience. My mum noticed that I'd started to get spots - on the nose and forehead - so she coerced me into my nearest store, where I sat atop a stool, and had astringent, stinging solutions tried out on my pimples. I remember a brown, watery emulsion - with oats in it – with which I was advised to wash my face every morning, but it brought my skin out in heat rashes. I tried Clearasil too and used it for a month or so, before graduating onto a fruity, fragrance-free face wash from Holland & Barrett, followed by Oil of Ulay - as it was known back then. Eventually, I was a fully-fledged face painter and I wouldn't leave the house without painted nails, mascara, a white shimmery eyeshadow from Rimmel, a dusting of bronzer and a slick of edible strawberry lipgloss. I even had a set of brassy highlights put in by a family friend - how I loved them! - until a boy I fancied told me I looked much better without them and should consider prosecuting my hairdresser. First love snuck even more tricks up the sleeve - peppermint scented balm, tinted moisturiser (I used Botanics, which was an utterly fantastic formula, but sadly discontinued) and enough kohl to sketch canvases with. The joy of those first buys and the communal cosmetic summits we'd have in the school bathroom, exchanging face scrubs, lipsticks, mascara - dreading the end-of-lunch bell, when we'd have to run back to our form rooms for afternoon registration - once with a stubborn wax strip still stuck to my thigh.

That's what school was all about. Laughing till my sides split, experimenting on our faces until detention struck and (secretly) loving to learn about everything from Grumio's kitchen to Lady Macbeth's lost child. The classical crossed with the cosmetic. Aw, memories....