M: Imagine being called Mr and Mrs Rodriguez. And you are waiting for your first born.
E: Not quite sure why, but sure, I can go with that, OK. I am the expectant Rodriguez family.
M: “What are we going to call the little cherub”, you ask yourself. What can set him up for a life of quiet, gentle contentment?” NARCISO. He was always going to be all LOOK AT ME. LOOOOOK AT MEEEEEE!
E: Listen, you. French people call their kids “Hippolyte”. Do not tell me Narciso is worse. Actually, I sort of confuse Narciso Rodriguez and François Nars, I realize.
M: It’s the “Nar” that confuses you presumably?
E: Mmm. I have looked at a picture now though. Narciso looks more like an actual person and less like a photofit picture made from adverts of semi-naked men cut out of GQ, which is of course what François Nars is.
M: Narciso Rodriguez. Apparently he can’t sleep before watching Jon Stewart. Crazy name, crazy guy.
E: Crazy popular fragrances. Did you know that? He sells TONNES of scent.
M: I always thought he was known for his wedding dresses, but I have come to the conclusion that I am confusing him with Carolina Herrera. WE HAVE NAME BLINDNESS.
Hang on. E, is this … a fragrance post?
E: Ssssh, there there. Nearly over. I recently went to party on a boat to learn about Narciso and his fragrances.
M: You what now? You went to a party on a what?
E: A BOAT. I went to a party on a boat. In the docks. In Brussels.
M: HA. Belgium, you bizarre little country.
E: It did not start auspiciously. I took public transport in my poor woman’s Roland Mouret dress to the very middle of NOWHERE. At one point the tram driver abandoned the tram to go and get a kebab.
M: I see.
E: Then I had to stagger along a dark, sinister, canal-side lane. In my heels, waiting to be murdered.
M: Did you smell of Narciso Rodriguez?
E: On the way there, I smelt of blind terror. On the way back, after a warm welcome and some cava and a collective singalong to New York New York (yes, really), I smelt of musk and chypre and orange blossom. That’s For Her, by the way.
M: For Her, the aspiring murder victim and karaoke idol.
E: Indeed. For Her was Narciso’s original scent. It’s nice. Classic. Not too in your face. Feminine. I liked it a lot actually. Then there’s “Essence”, which is drier, more powdery.
M: Powdery. I see. Oh god, I am sinking into a scent coma.
E: Deep healing breaths, M. We are nearly done. Let’s skip ahead to me telling you about the new fragrance.
M: If you must.
E: Which is called ‘L’Eau For Her’. Oh god, this is so confusing. Why do they all have the same name?
M: Revenge, for us confusing Narciso with other people, perhaps.
E: WE ARE SORRY, NARCISO. Anyway. This one is more of fresh, bouncy floral, but with a little musky note at the heart. Like being rolled in a botantical garden. Erm. Where a fox lives? But a nice, clean fox that hasn’t been going through any bins.
M: Uh oh. Spring foxes. We both know what that sounds like.
E: NO. Do NOT make this all about fox sex, M. It is a lovely spring floral.
M: No? Really? A floral? That is lovely for spring? BULLSHIT. The spring will never come. Your dad, King Science, has told us the apocalypse is coming.
E: Tsk. Nice Mr Rodriguez will make it all better. Less freak blizzards and fleece and fox sex, more optimism and shopping trips, picnics and pastels.
M: I see. Are you spritzing yourself in this? Bathing your temples.
E: No. I am not. For a very good reason. Because! I am going to GIVE IT AWAY to someone. I have a full sized L’Eau for Her in its lovely heavy, classy bottle, plus 75ml of body lotion, and I will brave the Belgian Post Office, populated by wall eyed halfwits, JUST FOR YOU.
M: Oooh! Excitement.What do they have to do to get it?
E: I think they should tell us one thing about what spring means to them in the comments, before the 25th of April. Is it shagging foxes? Owl webcams? Skin flakes billowing off your legs as you peel off your opaques sadly for the last time until September? TELL US ALL, and the best one wins a bottle full of spring.
M: Do. Join us in the festival of despair.
E: (patiently) No, M. Not despair. Florals.
M: Right. The festival of florals. *rolls eyes*
Update: We’ve used the highly dubious method of child slavery to pick a winner.
NITA! You will have some eau winging its way to you soon.
Team Facegoop are in London! I don’t know why I call us Team Facegoop. It makes us sound like Team Rocket from Pokemon and that is NOT a good thing.
Anyway. M has already told me my left foot looks like her sister’s cat’s hernia, but I’m not rising to the bait. Instead we’re concentrating on bringing you Exciting New Content.
First up, this video in which I look like a shiny, sweaty lunatic and tell you about what I’ve brought along in my make up and toilet bags.
E’s Toilet Bag
Braun Professional Straighteners
Toni & Guy Iron It Heat Defence Spray
Nuxe Bio-Beauté Fruity Micellar Cleansing Foam
Skin.NY Radical Restructure Complex (“chemical warfare in a tube”)
Caudalie Anti-Ageing Face Suncare SPF 30
Chanel Dragon Nail Colour
OPI We’ll Always Have Paris Nail Lacquer
Body Shop Body Brush
Dove Invisible Dry Deodorant
Serge Lutens Sa Majesté La Rose
Weleda Birch Cellulite Oil
No hair brush, toothbrush, toothpaste
E’s Make Up Bag
Nars The Multiple, in Orgasm
Nars Lip gloss in Turkish Delight
Nars Shadow duo in Belissima
Nars Aigle Noir Soft Touch Shadow Pencil
Laura Mercier Secret Camouflage
2 identical Laura Mercier concealer brushes
Laura Mercier compact blusher brush
Laura Mercier Tinted Moisturiser
Armani Face Fabric
Armani Blush Duo
Armani Eye Shadow in Maestro
Bobbi Brown Gel Eyeliner in Espresso and Caviar
Bobbi Brown Ultra fine eyeliner brush
Coco Mademoiselle lip colour
Tom Ford Pink Dusk lip colour
E: Yes, I suppose so. Noone else will talk to me about sloths and killing and despair and the evil of POI.
M: Then we should have something to celebrate this. Like, a slumber party. And friendship bracelets. Or, no, one of those love heart necklaces that break in 2.
E: Can’t we just do KILLING? And GIN?
M: Hmmm. You are not really in the spirit of this.
E: Sorry. Ok, slumber party! Whoop! YEAH! We could braid each other’s hair even though mine isn’t real.
M: Ha, and even though mine is a nest for small animals, like ferrets and meerkats.
E: Yeah, on second thoughts, forget about the braiding.
M: OK, how about some identi-makeup?
E: Yeah! Because we both have NARS MULTIPLES.
M: Yes! What’s yours?
E: Mmmmmm. Embarassingly I have the notorious ‘Orgasm’. You?
M: I have the much classier Portofino. You are Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. I am Gwynnie “Goop” Paltrow in Mr Ripley.
E: Hmmm. I know it’s vulgar, but I love it. A man with bad acne made me buy it in Liverpool Street.
M: Was this in the actual street?
E: Noooo, in Space NK. It’s not knock off, under the coat, Nars. I wouldn’t dare do that to the faceless consortium behind “Mr” “Nars”. I only buy from authorised stockists. How much do you love your multiple, M?
M: Well, to be honest, I am not that super fond of it. I mean, it’s nice, and the colour is pretty and everything. But I find it a bit hard to blend, and I have very strong, lustful feelings for the Armani Fluid Sheer, who will be mine one day, all mine.
E: Ha. Whereas Orgasm, I do pretty much love. I have much classier, better behaved blushers. Like the pink half of my Armani creme blush duo and a nice Laura Mercier but Orgasm has SPARKLY BITS and it is deliciously vulgar, like a second division footballer’s wife.
M: Where do you put yours?
E: Cheekbones. Very occasionally lips. Pop of blusher with the Armani bronzier colour under the cheekbone? You?
M: Snap. And sometimes eyes. Never lips, it’s a bit dry. WOOH! MULTIPLE BFFS!
E: Wooooh! Can we kill stuff now or should we talk about the product a bit more?
M: Nah, everyone knows what it is. Let’s go spit at grannies in the street.
M: Being the beauty gurus we are, people ask us for advice all the time.
E: Deluded fools.
M: They want to know – what red lipstick do you recommend, Facegoop? TELL ME, my love life/promotion/sanity depends on it.
E: They are barking up the wrong beauty bloggist if they ask me about red lips. Wearing it for our special moustache photos nearly destroyed me. But you have some qualifications in this field.
M: Yes. I am going to recommend one red lipstick, that is neither red, nor a lipstick. It is the Nars Velvet Matte Lip Pencil in DRAGON GIRL.
E: Again with the Nars. I know Facegoop readers suspect us of being on “Mr” “Nars” payroll. If only that were true. In reality, we just love his work. Awesome name. Awesome crayon.
M: DRAGON GRRRRRRL. It makes me want to do wheelies on my bike, even though I’m not sure what a wheelie is. I only bought it to get a freebie at Nars with 2 purchases. But when the grannies in John Lewis kept on complimenting me on my lips, I knew I was onto something. I love the bright pinky red colour. It’s punchy and pretty and hot stuff.
E: The Velvet Matte Pencil is truly make up for idiots too.
M: Yes, and I am an idiot. I love that I don’t have to mess around with a lip pencil, lipstick, and a lip brush, in the manner of a depressive clown. Just put it on, and forget about it. It doesn’t move.
E: Nope. It’s a crayon. Crayon your lips. The end. Idiot proof. On your recommendation, I bought one in ‘Walkyrie’.
M: How’s it been working out for you? It is a bit drying though, isn’t it?
E: I love it. It feels gorgeous going on. And actually I find it way less drying than some other lipsticks.
M: I usually top it up with balm half way through the day and then it just has a nice stainy quality to it.
E: How dare you. I bought reams of Nars goodness to get that for our readers. REAMS.
M: Ok, ok. Noone really doubts your ability to spend far too much money.
E: Thank goodness for that. And the winner is..
Soleil’s mother who went out with just one blue eyelid!
This was the full story:
Muchachas, I so want this pencil for my mamacita (who is, incidently, authentically Espanish), because she has had many misadventures with make-up. (NB: she normally wears none). Most recent misadventure. Mi mama querida decides to go through a really old make up stash, as generously left behing by my sisters and I when we left maman’s nest (many moons ago). She is irresistibly drawn to an electric blue eyeshadow, which she proceeds to smear not very skillfully but exceedingly generously all over her right eyelid. She likes what she sees, yes she does, and leaves it on, then gets distracted and carries on cleaning out the make up cupboard of marvels. Then leaves the bathroom, then takes her purse and goes to purchase her daily baguette (mamacita has lived in France for mucho tiempo) and some groceries, then stops to chat with some neighbours, then signs for a parcel delivered by a bemused postman, etc. Some time later she passes a mirror in her house and realises to her great desesperacion that she has been sporting ONE truly shocking bright blue eyelid all bloody day. She laughs and cries at once.
E: Well done Mamacita!
M: Because we’ve all done something stupid like that.
E: Oh yes. Sadly.
M: What have you done?
E: I look like a dick most of the time. I dress in the dark. My clothes have food on them.
M: I’ve turned up at work with what I thought was soft peachy blush, but was actually large streaks of bronzy orange.
E: Those false eyelashes I tried in Paris were pretty deadly. They were running away all over my face
M: Like caterpillars.
E: More like spiders. Navy bleu spiders. Because “il me reste que du bleu madame”. Which of course necessitated the purchase of navy blue eyeliner and various other extras. Then, 10 minutes later, a spider attack on my face in the middle of the Gare St Lazare.
M: Blue spider attack!
E: Yup. and let’s not even mention the endless fake tanning disasters.
M: Have you ever walked out with two different shoes, from two different pairs? Because, yup.
E: Ha! No. But hold ups falling down in the middle of the street? A weekly occurrence.
M: So a Facegoop hug to mamacita?
E: A huge Facegoop hug and a brand spanking new “Mr” “Nars” glitter crayon. Do one side, do two, draw yourself a cream glittery moustache. “Mr” “Nars” loves you just the way you are. Drop us Mamacita’s address in an email, Soleils, and the crayon of love is hers.
E: Hello M. I have a bag of Space NK BADNESS. So much free stuff. This week end (Friday and Saturday), if you spend £60 they give you a huge bag of stuff. STUFF.
M: I went to space NK too. Ididn’t buy anything though because I WANTED TO KNOW WHAT WAS IN THE BAG FIRST.
E: OK. Well, I can tell you.
M: YAY!!! Go through the whole bag. It’s like getting the bag, without paying for the bag. And actually having to store all the stuff that comes in the bag. And remembering to throw the bag out rather than letting it fester in a corner full of other bags. And getting boils from using the stuff that is in the bag.
E: I don’t understand a single solitary bit of what you just said.
M: I’m saying, this is fun because I get all the fun of the space NK goodie bag without any of the inconvenience.
E: And without any of the joyful, hand rubbing glee, staring at your heap of free tat, though. Look!
M: Nice photo.
E: Shut up. Starting at the top, there’s a full sized thing of Space NK lavender hand wash. Hands will always need washing. Useful. Decent sized shower gel in “Jump Start” flavour. Small pot of Eve Lom cleanser and cloth. All good. Next, “WEI” cream, entitled “Royal Ming firming and hydrating cream”
M: I have some sarcastic comment to make about “Jump Start”, but I’m too distracted by WEI cream. What is WEI cream? Is it made of tiny lithe Chinese girls? Because it sounds likes it is.
E: I’m more concerned about whether it’s pronounced WEE or WAY. If there are Chinese girl in there, they’d have to be tiny. It’s a very small pot. Next, we have a nice high-tec blue and silver tube called “Dr Brandt Collagen Booster”.
M: Ha. I bet you love this because it has “Dr” in the name.
E: You are right, I love a doctor. Put your lab coat on Dr Brandt and tell me about peptides.
M: You are also a big fan of the Complex. If I squeezed out an old tea bag and labelled it “Dr M C4 Pepto-complex”, would you buy it?
E: Would it promise thinner thighs? Then I would. Who am I kidding, I would buy it regardless of its intoxicating promises because of the doctor bit. Doctors do not lie. Next, I think ridiculous name prize from the bag goes to “Elemental Herbology Cell Plumping”. The rest is teeny tiny samples. There’s a By Terry foundation. Bound to be too dark, foundation samples always are. Darphin Hydralight Skin whatever the fuck that is.Tiny sachet of Fekkai glossing cream and tiny sachet of Lubatti “dreamy night cream”. Couple of scent samples – Sisley and Acqua di Parma. The End.
M: And what did you have to buy to get all this bounty?
E: Well. You had to spend £60. So I went to see our old friend “Mr” “Nars“, who was represented by a pretty Spanish boy who they are probably grooming to be the next face of “Mr” “Nars”. “You wanta a fraiysh, spreenglike look?” he asked me. “Si si” I said. “I DO want a fresh springlike look, instead of this gin sodden crone look. Yes please. Et pouf! Sixty quid gone in seconds.
M: Pouf indeed, guapito. Oh god. Did you buy green eyeshadow? Bright lemongrass green eyeshadow?
E: No! I bought the famous Mutiple in Orgasm. No comment. I also bought a freaking lip gloss. I blame that Slagheap. It’s all her fault, coaxing me into they way of the sticky mouth.
M: What lip gloss?
E: It’s called Turkish Delight. Pinky neutral. Not too glassy glossy.
M: What else did you get? I bet there’s more.
E: I got a Matt Velvet Lip Pencil because you said it was the dog’s bollocks.
M: It is the dog’s bollocks. What colour?
E: Let me check.. Ha! WALKRYIE. I AM SPROUTING WINGS AND SINGING CONTRALTO. I AM WEARING A BREASTPLATE. Why is this pleasant nudeish lip pencil called Walkyrie? It seems most un-Walkyrie like.
M: Weil die Mädchen, sie sind nude, ja?
E: Ah, genau. Erm what else did I buy? Nothing I think. Oh, some eye make up remover. Talika, which I always get.
M: Any good?
E: Yes. It’s really really good for sensitive eyes and mine are mofoing sensitive.
M: What with having no lashes and all?
E: Yes. It says it’s « pour yeux hypersensibles » and it really is.
M: Eh ben, hyper cool.
E: Hyper, super, méga sensibles. It’s cool and non-stingy and gets everything off quickly. Hang on, I found another thing in the bag of goodies. Nude Eye Complex.
M: Oh, I tried the Nude cleansing oil. It was rather nice.
E: Was this your Space NK trip? Tell me about it.
M: Well. I was a space NK virgin and I went in with my red monkey face woes.The glossy haired, fresh faced assistant was very nice. She picked out Nude oil, Darphin serum, Ren creams and gave me a mini facial.
E. Nice. They ARE nice in Space NK. They should be at the prices they charge.
M: There were lots of explanations. She said “YOU NEED TO EXFOLIATE”.
I said “LISTEN UP PUNK ASS MY FACE IS RAW, RAW I TELL YOU”.
It started stinging when she put the serum on so she took it all off again and put on some Caudalie cream, which was ok. But!
M: Then I had to kick her in the groin when she tried to put Rêve de Miel on me, and made a run for the door.
E: Back off with your Cauchemar de Miel!
M: If you’re reading, kind Space NK lady, I am sorry. I’M SORRY I KICKED YOU. It wuz my face wot made me do it.
E: No, it was the bees. The bees made you do it.
M: It was, the fuzzy stripy bastards. But I am still thinking about the oil. It was good. Maybe I will wait until Muji’s is released next month or whenever.
E: Muji has an oil?
M: Yes, it is meant to be very good but it hasn’t launched in the UK yet. More reliably informed beauty blogs have confirmed this.
E: There is one more thing in the bag, but it was a special gift from “Mr” “Nars” for buying too much of his crackmakeup. And it is A GIVEAWAY.
M: OOOOH A GIVEAWAY. This will please ‘Mr’ ‘Nars’.
E: Si si senorita. It is a Nars Glitter Pencil. I cannot endorse it because I have never tried it, but we know the faceless corporation behind “Mr” “Nars” is a genius and wishes us nothing but good.
E: Actual scientifically proven fact. And it is full sized and I have not played with it and it’s in a box and so on. It’s sort of pale creamy with a big old fuck off sparkle. Actually more of a glitter as the name suggests.
M: Here is a non-accurate pictorial representation of said glitter pencil:
M: So what do they have to do to get it?
E: Well. they have to tell us what the shittest beauty freebie they ever got contained. They can of course lie and say ‘half a weasel and a piece of pork crackling’ if they want.
M: Ok. Sounds good. Sounds… tasty. Mmmm, weasel crackling.
E: Mmmmmm those juicy plump weasels.
Right, you know what to do. Comment in the box below for a chance to win a “Mr” “Nars” glittery pencil. You have until midnight on Wednesday the 31st of March.
M: I mean Nars? François Nars? That’s a fake name.
M: Ha! FAKE. That’s totally photoshopped.
E: Nars. Not a real name, and a face cobbled together from back issues of National Enquirer.
M: It’s Tom Cruise’s hair, with Justin Timberlake’s beard.
E: And the rest of him is some Spanish dude. Joaquim Cortez maybe.
M: In any case, the giant, faceless corporation behind “Mr Nars” is a GENIUS. A TOTAL GENIUS.
E: Yes, who cares that he’s made up. “Mr” “Nars” is BRILLIANT.
M: “Mr” “Nars”, we love you. Proper love.
E: Proper, no mockery, even though you are made up, love. Your black eagle is Amazing. Not remotely sharp or pointy.
M: I mean, eyeliner, in a giant, soft pencil, with smouldering, golden shimmer.
E: Retard proof too.
M: Yes. You can rub it all over your face with no ill effect.
E: Maybe not on your upper lip? It might not look so good there.
M: Sssssh. It would, if you were trying to look like “Mr” “Nars”. We should also mention that Aigle Noir is of course the title of a famous French song.
E: In this version, Maurice Béjart dances a homage to fat eyeliner crayon.
M: He understands the importance of eyeliner.
E: He does. So much so, that I find myself wondering if that isn’t actually François Nars dancing.
M: What is the woman? Is she the eye? Lesser eyeliner? £2.95 “Collection 2000″ eyeliner?
E: Yes. She should stop pretending she has wings.
M: And why are those people carrying giant triangles? WHAT DOES IT MEAN? Do they symbolize the Q tip coming to clean up the smudges?
E: You don’t really get that problem with aigle noir though, do you? I am a bit disturbed by the tiny wing claps at 3’10. Awful.
M: Awfully GOOD.
E: It’s like he’s seen a vole he wants to eat.
M: THAT’S what she is. She’s a vole! And the triangles are the beak.
E: Aigle Noir makes us elegant and regal for one brief moment. That is why it is awesome.
M: Yes. A brief fleeting moment, it’s gone, like an eagle soaring in the heavens above. Why is “Mr” “Nars” making me write bad emo poetry?
E: All part of his evil plan, probably.
M: No. He isn’t evil. He doesn’t have an evil bone in his made up body.
E: Ok, it’s all part of his benign plan.
M: He just wants us to be beautiful. Even though we’re rubbish at being girls.
E: He’s the Gok Wan of make up.
M: Yes! With less gropage.
E: Facial grope would be weird, anyway.
M: He makes magic pants. For faces.
E: How do you wear yours, M? That’s a Cadbury’s Creme Egg reference, of course.
M: I usually start out trying to wear it as eyeliner. But then I fuck it up, so I smudge it all over my lower lid. Sometimes I put it on the outer corners of my lashline and smudge it outwards. That’s it.
E: The eagle is very forgiving. I put my proper eyeliner on first. Then I give it a bit of eagle just above the lash line. Then I blend a bit. Then sometimes I get carried away and put it all over the lid. I love how easy it is. Easy and greasy and sexy.
M: It’s a bit too thick to control, isn’t it? But that’s the genius of it.
E: Yes. That’s what makes for the general smudgy, sparkly gorgeousness.
M: So. Aigle Noir. Made by a faceless corporation hiding behind a photoshopped image and a made up name, but completely brilliant.
E: Yup. “Mr” “Nars”. You made us feel like laydeez. Thank you.