There’s nothing I enjoy more than testing various potions and goos on my face.
Serums! Cleansers! Oils! Gels! Exfoliants! Masks! Jesus tears! Droplets from the faraway forest of Narnia!
Anything that falls into the realm of skincare is my kind of thing. It’s not particularly clever. It’s not ground-breaking or important. It’s actually all kinda self-indulgent and expensive. I’m sure my time would be better spent learning a second language or reading Dickens, but pah! Makeup and skincare make me happy, goddammit.
And so, over the last few years – particularly while I’ve been in the media – I’ve given everything a go. Bizarro facials. Japanese “aqua gel”. Microdermabrasion. Skin peels. Etc.
I have a rotating door of products. Every brand gets a call up every now and then, with just a few cementing a place in my lame fanatical heart (Aspect, Go-To and Garnier, for those who are curious).
But only one product has stayed put over the years. Never losing its place. Never being relegated from the bedside table to the bathroom cabinet. Never faltering or underperforming. Always being brilliant and snazzy and lovely.