M: Remember the Angry Monkey Face syndromes, E?
E: Oh yes. Who could forget it?
M: Indeed. Not my face, that’s who.
E: Is it back?
M: The epidemic is pretty much over (turned out it was FOLLICULITIS and required a course of antibiotics. EW)
E: EW. That sounds like a proper disease and everything! Curse of Facegoop!
M: It has left some unsightly blemishes, marks, bumps and scars all over my face the likes of which I hadn’t seen since my Roaccutane teenage years.
E: Curse. Of. Facegoop. Why did we have the arrogance to start a beauty blog, M? We were so wrong! So so wrong!
M: So I need to wear foundation. And I hate foundation.
E: Oh, but foundation is our friend. I love my foundation. But then I am older and more haggard than you.
M: NO. Foundation is NOT our friend. Foundation is a gloopy, strangely coloured, runner of a bastard.
E: Noooooo! Foundation saves drowning puppies! It does a lot of charity work and doesn’t talk about it! It can make its own bread!
M: Don’t give me that. I have never had much luck with foundation. My colouring is unhelpful. My face is dry and oily. I can’t be bothered to reapply and/or powder. But needs must, or whatever the expression is.
E: Needs must when the folliculitis drives is the full expression, I believe. How are your adventures in foundation going?
M: Both Lisa Eldridge and Newby Hands have recommended this, so being the brain zombie that I am, I had to try it. DIORSKIN NUDE.
E: Oh yes. Well, Lisa and Newby can’t possibly be wrong (see how I pretend to be on first name terms with them?).
M: Ha!I think of them more as Your Majesties. Anyway. The lovely Dior boy in Jenners put it on my face.
E: Right.
M: And gave me a week’s supply of it to try at home. In this teeny tiny pot! Yay!
E: Oooh, that’s nice. that’s generous. And??? How is it?
M: At first I was disappointed, because it went everywhere. On my mobile screen, on my laptop sleeve, on my CORPORATE ACCOUNTS.
E: Oh god. That is not good. Accountants don’t like foundation stains. What did you do with it, smear it all over your monkey paws and play finger painting?
M: I distracted the accountant with the blackboard paint on my forearm. But I was like, what the fuck, Dior? You are not supposed to smear all over my papers. You are supposed to stay on my face, and give me a tiny waspish waist, and slender ankles.
E: Too fucking right. And a big pouffy pink dress and a bike.
M: Anyway, I think it was just due to whatever cream he used to clean my face first, because I have had none of this transfer nonsense in subsequent uses. Just light as a feather covering, and I love it.
E: God, I love it when something is actually good.
M: You can’t feel it at all, which for a liquid foundation is amazing. And it’s hydrating and has SPF 10 as well. So pretty much perfect. Except…
E: Let me guess. Colour match issues?
M: Yup. I can’t get a fucking colour match. They only have 9 shades, I’m between 030 and 040. One is too light, the other too dark.
E: I knew it. Bastards.
M: Dior, get your fucking act together. I went back and got another vial of 7 day Dior skin. I still need to try it, but it seems very dark. So I’m afraid I might have to drop £60 for two shades and mix. Sigh.
E: Le big fat sigh. You must persist. It’s what her Majesty of Eldridge would want. And Countess Hands.
M: Oh, and the other thing is, your face needs to be perfectly dry when you apply it, otherwise it goes wonky. And you need to use a brush.
E: Jesus, that’s high maintenance. You must really love it to put up with that.
M: Dude, you can’t feel it on your face. And it survived a two hour sweaty bike ride in the sun.
E: Diorskin Nude. Tougher than a two hour sweaty bike ride.
M: Lighter than a feather. More colour blind than a Kandinsky.
Diorskin Nude, £29
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E: M, you are going to be so proud of me.
M: I’ll be the judge of that.
E: Yes. I have been to a Beauty Evening for research. And not just because there were free drinks.
M: Right. I am not impressed yet.
E: Well, it was run by Harper’s Bazaar, and you could get makeovers from make up artistes. And Newby Hands, the beauty director at Harper’s gave a talk and said that Fred from Armani was THE BEST. She said that she didn’t want all the shiny pretty laydeez fighting over getting a makeover from him but that he was amazing and they should try. Guess who was FIRST?
M: YOU.
E: YES. ME ME ME.
M: Did you shove everyone out of the way? Did you kick shins?
E: My elbows are steel tipped.
M: Was there blood?
E: Ssssssh. We don’t talk about that.
M: High five!
E: High GBH five.
M: And? How was Fred? Is he a space lizard?
E: Yes. A tiny French space lizard. A space gecko. He said their new lipstick was better than Mr Ford’s.
M: A talking tiny french space lizard would not lie.
E: No. Then he put tonnes of blush on me.
M: Was it nice blush?
E: Yes, actually, you get two shades in one compact, a browny and a pinky and he did amazing cheekbone conjuring and contouring tricks with them, look:
M: Nice.
E: Then he he put some taupe shadow worthy of a cast member in Grey’s Anatomy on me, and a nude magic lipstick. He showed me the red and it looked awesome, but it gave me a funny turn, what with my Morbid Lip Colour Phobia.
M: PUSSY. Your lips deserve better than nude. What else? Tell me more.
E: Well, there were six rooms with different brands doing stuff. But instead of rooms, Harper’s Bazaar called them ‘beauty playgrounds’. There were no slides though. Or swings or an ice cream van.
M: Ha, playgrounds. Was it like the Tellytubbies playground? Except that freaky baby face sun had MR ARMANI instead, glaring at you coldly. And judging. JUDGING.
E: Wordlessly. Liplessly. I would totally watch Armani tellytubbies.
M: What would that be like? The mind boggles. There wouldn’t be nice grassy hills. It would all be sleek. And black. And perfectly flat.
E: Matte. And Celine the terrifying space lizard from Printemps Beauté would do educational things with her tail. She could be the Noo-Noo! I don’t think it sounds very suitable for preschoolers. ANYWAY. It was not matte black. It was kind of of taupe and full of beautiful, amazonian women. I felt like a hobbit.
M: A hobbit with sculpted cheekbones though.
E: I suppose. Newby Hands gave a talk. She said:
1. Diorskin Nude foundation was brilliant
2. That YSL do the most genius gel eye mask ever; and
3. That Dolce & Gabbana did excellent nude shades.
Wow, this is like lecture notes. I am the sad, lecture note beauty geek.
M: I’ve been testing the Dior Nude foundation. I am almost ready to buy it.
E: Do. She says it’s brilliant, on the cusp of skincare and makeup AND it makes you a better person and five inches taller. She was like this amazing, glowing uber-mensch, so I trust her.
M: I could be a better person. I could totally be a better person. I could be that girl, in the ads, with the pouffy pink dress and bicycle and flowery hat. Her:
E: With Dior you could. You would be good at that, you’re already a bike perv.
M: Continue. What else?
E: Well, the Bare Escentuals ladies were there swirling and buffing and they had tiny cupcakes.
M: Were they swirling and buffing the cupcakes?
E: Yes, swirl buff swirl buff.
M: That’s weird, man. Onto their FACES?
E: Ok, I lied. But they had swirled icing.
M: WHAT ELSE.
E: Well, Armani had chocolates.
M: Dude, I’m sorry, but I don’t give a shit about the food. I’m here about the STUFF. Gimme my wholesome Harper’s beauty crack.
E: Ah, sorry. Well, Lancôme have magical mascara that makes your EYELASHES GROW SO FAST YOU CAN PLAIT THEM.
M: Yeah, I don’t believe in that.
E: It no longer changes the colour of your eyes which hello? FREAKY.
M: I don’t know, different coloured eyes are sexy. Like, one yellow, one purple. HAWT.
E: Good if you’re in a witness protection program. You could have different coloured eyes and grow an eyelash curtain to hide behind.
M: I got one of those. With the Topshop mascara.
E: We will learn all about that in the forthcoming Epic Mascara Post.
YSL Top Secrets Instant Eye Wake-up Patches, £32
Diorskin Nude foundation, £29
Giorgio Armani Blending Blush duos
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