If there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that my makeup routine is as inconsistent as my bank balance and my wifi speed all rolled into one.
Most days I don’t wear eye makeup, some days I just cover my face in tinted moisturiser and other days (or, you know, once a year) I roll up to work with my full face made up, ready for my slew of compliments.
… They often don’t come.
So imagine my surprise last week when I spent no more than five to six minutes on my face only to walk into work and be told I look refreshed. Alive, even! Like I’d been on holidays.
Quietly ignoring what this must say for the state of my appearance in the weeks prior, I had one thing to thank: my bronzer.
You see, from the age of about 13 to 16, bronzer was my best buddy. Along with it's obnoxious cousin in fake tan, it become the only beauty essential I needed. After all, who needs foundation when you can saturate your face in bronzer and come out sparkly and tanned on the other side? (Me. I needed foundation.)