Face Goop

Posts Tagged ‘Topshop’

Epic Mascara Post

E: Ok M. I’m quite excited. Are you going to take me on a voyage of discovery to the land of … Mascara? Alittle known Balkan state.

M: Get your facts right. It’s an Island in the Maldives.

E: Oh yes, sorry. Owned by the Pope who is himself partial to the fruits of the mascara tree.

M: To be completely honest, I must admit I am Not That Bothered With Mascara (NTBM). I’ll use whatever is at hand.

E: NTBM. Like NTM but more polite.

M: Nique Ton Mascara. That’s gross, E.

E: Ouais, grave. Ok, come on, tell me more about the Island of Mascara.

M: Also, I can’t use eyelash curlers. They give me the fucking creeps. You might as well try to lawnmow my face.

E: They look like something from Clockwork Orange.

M: The result would be the same: hyperventilation. Blacking out. Manic screaming.

E: A normal Monday chez Facegoop.

M: So, this is my technique for mascar. Start with a naked eye.

M: Find a mascara tube that isn’t 3 years old.

E: Good start. Conjunctivitis is never a good look.

M: Dab it on, apprehensively. Usually get some right in my eye. Cry a bit. Curse. Then push the lashes up, while they’re still wet, so they curl up a little. The end.

E: So. None of this crazy shit oscillating brush business for you? Vibrations?
Infrared? Small pixies creeping out of the tube to stroke your lashes?

M: No. I mean, if someone wants to give me one, I’ll use it. I’ll even be polite to the pixies. AS LONG AS THEY DON’T STROKE MY EYEBALLS.

E: Ew. You’d be fully entitled to kick the little fuckers in their tiny pixie nuts if they did that.

M: But really, I demand two things out of a mascara:
1. Do not give me panda eyes. I mean, really. If I wanted panda eyes, I’d be eating bamboo.

2. Get the fuck off my lashes when I tell you to, mascara. None of this staying around for a “night cap” business.

E: We do not want to see your etchings. Or hear about how you and your wife ‘live separate lives’.

M: And we definitely don’t want to see you “tasteful nudes”. With that in mind. Here are the 4 mascaras I found in my pile of crap cosmetic drawer.

Definie-a-lash in Black Waterproof

The Claim:
No clumps, separated, seriously long lashes

The Anecdote:
Recommended by my sister, the actress slash moddle. Perfectly long, fluttery, defined lashes on her. Unfortunately I made the mistake of buying the waterproof version. Gives quite stiff, crispy lashes, and is impossible to remove – no amount of eye make up remover, oil cleanser, soaking, wiping, scraping or praying to the gods will prevent next day panda eyes.

M’s Verdict:
It’s good stuff. But stay away from the waterproof.

E says: You look pretty good, but it’s not science fiction uber lashes, is it? Whatevs.

Define-a-lash mascara, £7.99

No7 Intense Volume in 02 Brown/Black

The Claim:
Fantastic volume with perfect separation and curl for lusher lashes

The Anecdote:
Not sure why I bought this. Probably a £5offno7 voucher.

M’s Verdict:
Nondescript. Lashes look natural. Bit pointless really.

E says: This is RUBBISH.  Throw it away. The end.

No.7 Intense volume mascara, £11

Great Lash Blackest Black mascara

The Claim:
Lash building brush helps build even the tiniest lashes for a cleaner, more separated lash finish.

The Anecdote:
I used this when I was a teenager. That and those giant glue sticks of Palmer’s Cocoa butter balm we used to rub on our lips obsessively. Good times.

M’s Verdict:
It’s actually very good, the brush is quite small and does tackle even the tiniest lashes. I seem to remember this melting onto my face pretty fast though, which is probably why I haven’t used it in ages.

E says: Yeah, this looks very good. The name is like a Whitney Houston song though. The Greatest Lash of All.

Great Lash blackest black mascara, £4.99

Topshop mascara in Raven

The Claim:
Super volumising mascara for false lash effect dramatically thicker and fuller lashes.

The Anecdote:
As recommended by the Topshop makeup artiste. The brush is chunky and always loaded with lots of gloopy product. I usually get some around my lids. It’s very clumpy too so I have to use my fingers to get the worst of it off.

M’s Verdict:
In spite of its rebellious teenager behaviour, I like it for its high impact, and have been using it daily. It lasts until the evening with no smudging or melting. It gets to the lash roots like no mascara I’ve ever tried, but it’s not so good on the small outer corners.

E says: I don’t understand why you like something that gloops on you, but whatever, dude. This looks like Old Skool mascara to me, like quite heavy in a sultry temptress kind of way. Looks kind of lengthening. Does that even make sense? Urgh, my head hurts.

Topshop mascara, £8

Bonus! Armani Eyes to Kill in 01

The Claim:
Dress the eye with powerful, plush, voluminous lashes.

The Anecdote:
I don’t actually own this, but the gentle lovely FACE DESIGNER at Armani made me try it. I have no idea how she put it on, because my eyes were closed during the application. She could have told me, but she probably would have had to kill me.

M’s verdict:
Go away. My lash extensions and I have some fluttering to do.

E says: See, when I see you wearing this, I wonder why you bother with the others. This is KING MASCARA. King Mascara of Lizardland. BOW DOWN AND WORSHIP HIM.

Giorgio Armani Eyes to Kill Mascara, £23

Before M heads to the Armani counter like a crack addict, any preference, facegoopists?

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Topshop Makeup launches

M: Isn’t today amazing? Isn’t it wonderful?

E: Er, no? It’s shit. The world economies are collapsing and neither of our countries now has a government. What’s wrong with you? Have you been sniffing glue?

M: It is Spring. The blossoms are out. The sun is shining. The temperatures are a tiny bit over freezing.

E: Hmm. You have been sniffing glue.

M: SPRRRRING! And I have finished my accounts.

E: AHA! That’s what this is about.

M: Yes! They have been given to the new accountant, who is £300 cheaper than the old bastard accountant.

E: Well that is cause for celebration. High five M.

M: High five, E. Using the power of girl logic, this means I have £300 to spend.*

E: That’s a lot of money M*. What did you buy? Baby goats? Macaroons? Baby goats made of macaroons?

M: Well I happened to be walking past Topshop on my way to the office.**  They have a new makeup collection. Have you seen it?

E: No, but I have read about it and it sounds good. ‘Good’ That’s a highly technical makeupbloggist term.

M: Well, it’s the magical launch week today so they had a special glossy stand in the big shiny new Topshop and they had flown*** over some Special Makeup People.****

E: And? And and and????? Did you try it? Is it good?

M: It’s actually very very good. I LOVE IT. Cheap. Nice products. Flimsy packaging but very cute. I could have bought practically all of it.

E: So what DID you buy?

M: Shall I give you the highlights?

E: Please do.

M: There is fat glittery eye pencil, suspiciously like our beloved Aigle Noir, and it comes in all sorts of other colours too. Only £6.

E: Ooooh cheap eagle, not bad, not bad.

M: There is a powder highlighter from the special summer collection, which is nice and finely milled (technical term).

E: Get you with your beauty bloggist terminology.

M: It also shines like the sun. The makeover artist recommended the mascara – she said it was great even with the crap hygienic disposable brush they have to use. I didn’t buy it but I will. SOON.

E: You must. It is your Duty.

M: Their cream blushes are nice. Like Stila convertible colours but not so gloopy,very sheer and light.

E: Oh, I want to gooooo! Why do I live in Belgiana? Whiiiiine.

M: There there, whiny. You will. Soon. I want to show you my favourite thing.

E: Yes please.

M: This is the Crayon in Sun Shower. It is AMAZING.

E: Ooh that is PRETTY . What does it do?

M: It’s a soft greasy crayon pencil thing and it twists out of the pretty gold case. It’s like a bronzy browny gold for your eyelids.

E: Wow. I love it already. GIMME. I like how it says you can do “face art”.

M: Yes. It will be good for our planned Mexican wrestling makeover. I also bought a couple of nail polishes. They have a huuuuge range of colours.

E: Which ones did you get?

M: I got two… one is “nice n neutral”, minky greige, and the other is called “art school” (HA).

E: HA. And what colour is “art school”?

M: “Art school” is a soft gorgeous pink.

E: Pfff, as if. Art school should be mental coloured. With sticky-outy bits of weirdness and gratuitous phalluses probably.

M: Art school should be half glitter, half leopard print, half comet vomit.

E: And half penis. That’s 4 halves. Facegoop maths.

M: That’s ok, art students can’t count. The varnishes look really good though. They had a good one which was black in the pot but came out petrol blue.

E: So, Top Shop make up is a massive Facegoop WIN?

M: Yes, BUT. The makeup artist. She grabbed me, and put crazy ass BLUE GLITTERY EYE MAKEUP on me. What is it with sales assistants and blue makeup???

E: What is it with YOU and blue makeup, you mean. You knows you love it.

M: I looked like a crazy person. I mean CRAZY. Like, the No7 makeover was neutral and calm in comparison. GIANT ASS GLITTER CRAZY. BIG FAT FLECKS. ALL OVER MY FACE.

E: Whoop. Disco M. Edinburgh has never seen anything like it.

M: She said “it’ll look great for an evening out”. Little does she know my evenings out consist of knitting and eating biscuits.

E: Great for a night out ON MARS. So we are excited about Top Shop make up then?

M: Yes. We love it. You will love it when you get your grubby Belgian paws on it. It is Cheap. And Pretty. And Crazy.

E: I can’t wait. Gimme some gold crayon goodness.

* Lies

** Lies again: I was on my way home back to bed.

*** Bused.

**** Poor Students.

Topshop makeup, all under £10.

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