M: SPRING. It is spring. The leaves are growing.
E: So I hear. The bunnies are frolicking. The daffodils are .. being yellow.
M: The squirrels are screwing.
E: The teenagers are smoking hash.
M: The peacocks are barking.
E: The seagulls are eating chips.
M: I think we’re doing spring wrong, E.
E: You may be right.
M: You know what spring needs, E?
E: Castrating? A restraining order? An ASBO? To actually get motherfucking warm?
M: Maybe. Or: a bright lip.
E: Oooooh. A bright lip. The fashion singular.
M: A bright lip that says OOOOH LOOK AT ME, I AM DRUNK ON THE GOODNESS OF SUNSHINE!
E: Funnily enough, I have been and bought myself a bright lip, which as you know is TOTALLY out of character.
E: You know about my Lip Colour Phobia.
M: Yes. I know it well. I disapprove of it.
E: I fear lip colour. I only want .. nude. And beige.
M: Nude schmude. Beige schmeige.
E: Well, I had a rush of spring blood to the head and I allowed a saleslizard to convince me to buy a bright lipstick. It is Tom Ford’s Flamingo.
M: Tom Ford: the Rolls Royce of lipstick.
E: Of course Tom Ford has a Flamingo, and I bet it doesn’t shit over his parquet or keep him up with its raucous spring lovemaking.
M: Like the peacock in my garden. That is one randy bird.
E: Peacocks: creatures of high libido.
M: Flamingos: creatures of excellent pinkness.
E: True, dat. Here is my lipstick. It is pretty. And BRIGHT.
M: Nice. Cheerful. Not peacock shagging wild, just pink.
E: Tom? Flamingos aren’t actually that colour. They are more coral.
M: I think it’s supposed to be more like, essence of flamingo. Flamboyant. LOOK AT ME! I’M A PINK BIRD!
E: Somehow, pink is less of a psychological leap for me than red.
M: That’s weird, it’s harder for me. Red is easy, classic.
E: I think Mademoiselle was my gateway lipstick.
M: Dude, that’s practically brown.
E: PINKY brown. And now I am trying to push my lipstick boundaries back, like on one of those programmes about phobias.
“Describe your level of discomfort on a scale from one to ten”
Red would be a TEN. Pink is ooh, a seven, I suppose.
M: I see, like arachnophobia therapy. First you can look at pictures of a spider, then you can look at a spider, then you can wear a spider on your lips.
E: Erm, yes. So red lipstick is my spiderlips. I’m not there yet. I have to confess I am not even fully doing the pink thing.
M: What comfort level of lipstick are you wearing now?
E: Well. I am trying to use this Tom Ford Flamingo, but I am smudging it with some Lanolips Rhubarb. It’s really full on and matte if you put it straight from the tube.
M: Pretty! I do not agree that, in your words, you look like a “geriatric goth forced to wear a tutu”. Smudging is good. I always end up with lipstick on my teeth otherwise. Since you are experimenting with pink, E, let me show you MY pink lipstick.
E: WHOOOAAAA. THAT SHIT IS PINK.
M: YES! SO PINK. Even pinker in real life. Neon pink.
E: You look really hot actually. What is it?
M: Thanks E. It is Estee Lauder Portofino Coral, granny’s signature lipstick.
E: It’s ok, you don’t have the heavily powdered face necessary to do it granny style.
M: It’s very creamy, and super pigmented, but it goes all over the fucking place.
E: All over your granny shopping trolley and your zip up furry booties. No, I am joking, it’s really very pretty. It makes me want to push back my pink boundaries (that sounds like a terrible euphemism).
M: Ha. I love it with actual true love.
E: Pink lips: not just for Christmas. Indeed, not for Christmas at ALL.
M: What are your favourite pinks, Facegoopists? And what lipstick colours set your spider phobia scale tingling?
Tom Ford in Flamingo, £36
Estée Lauder Signature Hydra Lustre in Portofino Coral, £19
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: Hey M. You know how we’re really grumpy and cursed with the curse of Facegoop at the moment?
M: Ssssh. Don’t mention the curse of Facegoop.
E: Sorry. The leprous sores are starting to heal slightly now. Anyway, I thought, to cheer ourselves up, we could diversify into sending begging letters for beauty products we really really want. I’ve started by writing one to Tom Ford.
M: Oh dear. Well, I suppose I had better hear it.
E: Ok, well it goes:
“Dear Mr Ford,
We know you make your lipsticks from finely ground unicorn horn, pixies tears and the shroud of Audrey Hepburn, that they cure cancer and reverse the ageing process and that they will make us hotter than Scarlett Johansson and Jessica Biel and other pretty ladies rolled into one.
We want one. We have been very good and went to see your film and all that.
E and M
(ps u r hot)
M: Impressive. You know he’s gay, right?
E: Of course I do. He is still hot. In an eerily perfect sort of way.
M: Do you think he’s an android?
E: Probably. His torso is made of medical grade bronzed silicone.
M: Did you really see his film?
E: I was mainly hypnotised by the mohair jumper. It did not make me cry at all.
M: That’s because you are dead inside.
E: I can confirm that 110%.
M: Lord Alan Sugar of Clapton would be proud. Do you have DNA evidence of this film attendance?
E: What do you want. popcorn grease?
M: It’s not for me, it’s for Mr Ford.
E: Give Mr Ford my DNA?
E: But I know for a fact Mr Ford is in league with the DNA superthieves at Estee Lauder.
E: So NO. You can take my pride but you cannot take my stem cells in return for a fifty quid lipstick, as I believe Martin Luther King did not say.
M: You are principled, E.
E: Oh yes. But I would really like a coral lipstick.
M: Have you tried them?
E: I fucking wish. I have just read about how awesome they are. Have you?
M: No. And would YOU wear coral?
E: I dunno, but it sounds deliciously retro. “Coral”, like 1950s housewife. That whole Revolutionary Road/Mad Men that whole aesthetic. Lives of quiet desperation but with lovely clothes.
M: I would be an excellent 1950s housewife. I would totally have a bloody mary every morning.
E: You would be an amazing 1950s housewife, in your homemade apron. Except your apron would have “arse” embroidered in the corner. If I was rich and male and squinty I would marry you.
M: Thanks E, I think.
E: Now will you get Mr Ford to give me a lipstick? Just one. I will be careful with it. I will polish the case and stroke it and feed it tiny cakes.