#87 Show-Faced

Diet features. Pah. New Year's Resolutions. Hmph. Gym memberships, swanky new kit, visions of a newer, svelter, less-jiggly-thighed you. Forget it. As this is approaching my 30th new year on earth, I have decided to steer well clear of big promises to myself, preferring instead to usher in a far more realistic and exciting era: The Age of the Experimental Me. Da-Da-DAH!

Yep. I've decided, not wholly unlike April Long in this month's US ELLE, to try out an entirely new look every week (she opted for a new hairstyle everyday for 21 days - kudos!) in an effort to shake myself out of my comfort zone AKA my recent descent into the sartorial wilderness. The root cause of my time-out? One word: Winter. This is my scariest season. Every year I imagine buying up cashmere, elegant scarves, new boots, a lovely coat, woolen Franco-centric dresses and dressing like a combination of a Russian Doll and Minnie Mouse. Yet... every year I find something else to spend my money on - this year a broken-into car and broken-down washing machine (groan) - and the fairytale image gets further and further away as I desperately recycle my summer dresses with long-sleeved jersey Ts underneath, spend weeks in my black & grey leggings (they're SO comfy)and long woolen tunics, and pull on my favourite baggy jeans with last season's Uniqlo knits and big scarves. Then, horror of horrors, my favourite Comptoir des Cotonniers skirt bust a zip & my APC coat lost a statement button. Things fall apart...

But, now that the year ends in a '9' (so, scarily, close to '10') rather than an '8' (I still have time to change), I'm determined to hurl myself out of the comfort zone. Not in an unrealistic attempt to get a new body, new man, new life - no cliche copy here - but rather to be able to look at my reflection in the mirror and think, 'Good for you. You look like you care about yourself. Change feels good doesn't it?'

And as with any new hair & make-up endeavour, my search begins in my desk drawers, unearthing the new shades and textures that will give my look an injection of 2009-worthy attitude. The things that caught my eye include:

Bobbi Brown Skin Foundation SPF15 - a lovely water-rich formula that blends very well, leaves a dewy finish and really works wonders at covering uneven blotches. Best on just-buffed skin as it is not moisturising enough to rid you of dry patches, but works well at dispelling any rogue redness around noses.

From MAC, a bevy of exciting things: Creme Colour Base in Pearl Frost, a gold-based icy hue that really lifts & opens eyes, without making you look like the Tin Man. I wore it yesterday, slicked from lashline to top of lid, with a single coat of inky black mascara, and was asked for ID at my local Waitrose. God's. Honest. Truth.

Also from MAC, Mineralize Blush in Dainty, which is a tawny coral, almost terracotta colour, which I've learned from experience looks great worn high on cheekbones and swiped across the bridge of the nose. Easier to wear than a bright pop of pink & great for faking a flush on those who do not like using bronzer. Works well with MAC Tinted Lip Conditioner SPF15 in Petting Pink, with its glorious pink putty hue and candy scent.

Then, a bid to wear mascara more often - jammed deep into lashes and as inky black as possible - I really like Rimmel Sexy Curves with it's thin, grippy brush.

Finally, my love affair with lipstick continues with a shade that begs to be eaten. Korres Mango Butter Lipstick SPF10 in 45/Coral gives a shiny, wet look rather than that matte colour-block of paint effect that's also popular right now (try Sisley if that's the look you're hankering after), but the Korres colour is just so damn hot and the formula is foolproof.

Topped off with a headband - worn, hippie-style, over the hair, to compliment my new, choppy fringe. Don't write off ASOS for great hair accessories - and with the sale still on, I grabbed a gorgeous sailor-stripe bow band for just £2. Love it.

A tally of lovely treats that beat bog-standard New Year's resolutions any day of the week. Particularly on days when I feel nothing more than the urge to bury myself in the duvet. On those days, the whirr of the treadmill jars as acutely as a dentist's drill - but playful hair, a bright lip, shimmering eye and contoured cheek pull me out of my dystopia, shake me up and get me feeling like myself again - less defensive, less buttoned up... within or without the buttons on my APC coat.

#73 Cheap Dates

I've made the move from snobby skincare buff to beauty bargain hunter over the course of the last couple of weeks, in a bid to ascertain whether or not the amount of spondoolees spent is directly proportional to the sparkliness of the skin. To be honest, after years of sticking with bargain beauty hits from...

The Body Shop (Brow Gel; Lip and Cheek Stain; Complexion Enhancer)
No7 (some of the best mascaras on the market)
Rimmel (great nail polish & on-trend lippy)
Neal's Yard Remedies (amazing masks and brilliant aromatherapy bath oils)
Superdrug (the massive tub of Intensive Coconut Conditioner is amazing and so cheap)
Olay (Daily Facials are a must-have when I'm away or at the gym)

... I'm already aware of the fact that you don't need to fork out fifties to get great results.

Well, now I've got some more goodies to gab about...

E45 - the new Endless Moisture Replenishing Care Body Cream is brilliant. Go for the fragrance-free option for a buttery cream that sinks straight in and leaves limbs silky. It's my everyday gym essential and really helps alleviate stubborn back-of-arm bumps.

Miners - their Dream Eyes eyeliners come in at less than £2 each, but serve up swell colours in a surprisingly soft texture.

Eucerin - the Intensive Foot Cream with 10% Urea is great for calloused, hard-soled feet. A week's use and you'll notice a big difference.


There are more bargain beauty recommendations to come next time I blog, as I've been bitten and am now smitten with cheap-as-chips cosmetics. It gives a whole new meaning to the oft-mimicked and maligned catchphrase, 'You're worth it.'

#31 Skins

As much as I would like to think of my beauty quest as being utterly just – blind and impartial – the truth of the matter is, looks count. Take the new cosmetics range from Korres. It’s beautiful – inspiringly ripe colours, familiar coarse & earthy packaging, bright visuals – I want it all. I’ve sketched and rubbed a good deal of it over the backs of my hands, across lids and into cheeks already and am impressed with the easygoing textures… but I imagined good things from the moment I opened the envelope. Great expectations – that were not dashed at the first sniff or swipe. Then you have the products at the other, unfortunate, embarrassing, ‘editorially-unfit’ end of the spectrum. Such as Montagne Jeunesse’s horrifically frightening face masks. Just how this company expects to elicit a sense of excitement with their shots of heads and bodies bedecked in fruit flurries and plant pot pourri is a mystery to me. The packaging is HIDEOUS. But, unfairly, the products are rather good. The bust firming gel is a decent, tightening brew that really does get your boobies tingling and most importantly, wobbling far less than before. Yes, the results are temporary – but then, aren’t they all? Likewise, the marine mineral mask is very hydrating, even if it isn’t ideal for sensitive skins and it’s too heavily perfumed. All in all – not too bad – yet the packaging is fit only for practical jokes and ironic birthday gifts.

Perhaps it shouldn’t matter. Perhaps, that exhausted maxim ‘Beauty is only skin-deep’ should apply to our cosmetic quests too… but then, we are talking about cosmetics. It’s as superficial as it gets – we want to look good – so it makes sense that we expect the same of the products we choose. There are the Chanels, Korners, Stellas, Stilas and Paul & Joes of this world – and then there are the Virgin Vies, Collection 2000, Colorsports and fake nail companies. Yes, yes, yes – they might be GOOD, but they’re just too darned ugly.

And lest I be labelled a, well, ‘label’ whore – I’d also like to big up the little winners too. Barbara Daly, Bourjois, Mister Mascara, Rimmel, Urban Decay and No 7. And that’s just for starters. No, it has nothing to do with price – just plain beauty. Inside and out.

#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....

#12 Cheap Stakes PART ONE

If I think about the hundreds of items of clothing that I've returned over the years - everything from a pea-green coat that my sister called 'catalogue-y' to a pair of Miu Miu sandals that were sexy in the box, but made me hobble with premature decrepitude after five minutes - it strikes me that if the same returns policy applied to cosmetics, I'd be considerably richer, and far less cynical now. I was a student, living on £30 a week, convinced that I needed a Clarins face cream and cleanser. I bought MAC make-up and Shu Uemura curlers and Kanebo concealer. I gorged on Ruby + Millie lipgloss, Stila bronzer, NARS blusher. I was an utter fool - a broke fool - with a burgeoning make-up bag to match the escalating overdraft. So I stopped. Cold turkey. Boots was banned, all Superdrug stock sequestered. Never again. And I stuck to it. Back in the black, things improved. I'd taught myself the art of cosmetic control - I didn't need the £50 face cream or £80 cellulite gel or £20 blusher. In fact, I'd learned that it didn't really matter what kind of crap I slapped on my face - you don't get good skin from spending lots of money. You get it from being happy and healthy. Yawnsome, but true.

So, today my outlook is rather different. There are yummy, luxurious, decadent, effective things that can be bought with notes - of course - but not one of them will change your life. And, I don't know about you, but when I discover a fabulous, but pricey product, I can't stop the mental calculations in my head for long enough to enjoy it - "£60 a month, £720 per year - Blimey! I could buy premium gym membership for that! Or take an amazing holiday.... or... or." You get the guilt-tinged point. So, in the spirit of exuberant economy (the mantra being: spend less, get more, have fun!) I've come to like my little trinkets cheap and interesting. That way, if they're good - as many affordable cosmetics are - it's far more satisfying.

Here are the staples that have been floating my boat (and keeping my afloat) for some time:

1. Burt's Bees Lemon Butter Cuticle Creme. Less than a fiver, smells like fresh, sharp sherbert and lasts for ages. In fact, I've got a two year old pot that's still going strong.

2. 17 Sheer Shine Eye Cream, £3.79. Good stuff that's very easy to use. Comes in a series of nice shades with a subtle, shimmery finish. Tigerlily is a favourite.

3. Boots Coconut & Almond Leave-In Conditioner, £1.79. I go through a bottle in the summer. I saturate my ends, or spray it all the way through damp hair if I'm doing a senorita-style-bun, comb it through and go about my business. Smells like you'd expect it to, which is no bad thing.

4. Rimmel Special Eyes Eyeliner Pencil, £2.99. It's firm (so you don't get that awful melted-chocolate consistency that you often get with expensive soft kohl) and it doesn't crumble, smudge or melt.