Face Goop

Guerlain Midnight Secret

E: So. Today we’re reviewing Guerlain Midnight Secret.

M: Pharaonic. It’s not really a secret, is it?

E: It’s the worst kept secret since Ricky Martin.

M: The Guerlain Midnight Secret is not so good with its hips though.

E: I suppose the secret is that you dance at the ambassador’s ball until the wee small hours, then you are up bright and early looking radiant the next morning for a gala breakfast with er, the ambassador’s wife . HOW????

M: Wait wait wait. Hold on. What is this, a Ferrero Rocher ad??

E: Yes. This is my view of Guerlain, see? It is basically a highly aspirational 1950s film condensed into small, expensive pots.

M: Except, in our version, you’ve been up to no good, snogging the ambassador’s son.

E: On current form, I would be more likely to have been snogging the ambassador’s dog.

M: You’ll need some Midnight Secret for that too. Continue.

E: So. In the Guerlain version of events, you kick off your dancing slippers (mirrored Louboutins, presumably) and sink into your goosedown quilt, pausing only to grab your Midnight Secret.

In E’s version, you reel home from a seedy transvestite cabaret by a method you do not remember the next morning. You wave a towelette in the direction of your face if you are feeling fancy. Then, despite the fact that you are too drunk to undress, the blue jar of promise winks at you so you slather some on optimistically. You wake up in the morning feeling sick, with eye make up and drool all over your pillow, and a head like a badger’s arse.

But! Your complexion is not as shit as it deserves to be.

M: Hmmm. Your method may differ from that of the polished socialite, but the result is the same, isn’t it? And that result is glowy, and dewy, and even possibly even skin.

E: Yup. The level of dewiness depends on the G & T count. But it is definitely pretty good. Also, it smells totally delicious.

M: Yes! The deliciousness of the smell! What does it smell of?

E: It smells like a rose garden trampled at dawn by the dainty toes of M. Guerlain, possibly dancing like M. Louboutin in this video.

M: I think more M. Guerlain’s angelic, blonde haired little grand daughter. She is all dimple and smiles as she CRUSHES the flower into the heavy blue sarcophagus of a jar.

E: Now you’re making it sound like Gigi. With Maurice Chevalier as M. Guerlain.

“sank ‘eavens, for Midnight Secret!”

M: “fo’ you face she get more CRAGGY evereee deeeeey”

Of course, there’s another ill guarded secret related to Midnight Secret. It’s fucking expensive.

E: Horribly so. But the ambassador is paying.

M: And what price your dignity?

E: My dignity is priceless.

M: Oh? Maybe you should wipe that dog slobber off your face then.

E: Sssssh. So: Midnight Secret. Magical. Expensive. Made by cinematic giants and set to music by Maurice Chevalier.

Guerlain Midnight Secret, £58