BEAUTY

Best Brows in the History of Brows

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The first time I got my eyebrows waxed, I was 12 or 13. This seems crazy to me, but I mention it by way of establishing my credentials. I know that this nothing, nowadays, when girls much younger are getting waxed in places that don’t bear thinking about, or even younger girls getting spray tans for their First Holy Communion — but it still strike as kinda young. So anyway, that little bit of personal information is given so you know that I’ve been around the block, several times, and am a good judge of services that concern the removal of excess hair on the brow.

As for threading, I’ve only had five instances, but they all had defining characteristics:

1} My first time, and the lady took so much off the ends of my brows they have barely grown back — two years later.

2} This time, it felt like the lady was pulling out the hairs one by one with her teeth.

3} My sister took me to the place she goes in the strip mall in North Brunswick, NJ. It cost $3, which is roughly €2.24. When I was waved to a seat, my sister winced, because she knew the threading ladies, and this one liked to take her time, possibly in sadistic fashion. The lady ran the thread through my brows like an arpeggio — a slow, slooooow arpeggio.

4} I will be writing about this in future, because it was good one, and an option for southsiders: Shavata in Harvey Nicks, Dundrum.

5} This was the best one, though: Neelu at Arnotts. Continue reading →

Sweet Sixteen: Bliss Vanilla + Bergamot

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I’ll always remember the first time I got a whiff of Bliss’ cunning combination of vanilla and bergamot: I was working as the art director of a super cool magazine, and one of my colleagues just about thrust an open tub of the Body Buff under my nose. ‘Oh, my God!’ I sighed. ‘It smells like the beach!’*

If ever there was a hoard-worthy product line, it is this one. I couldn’t bear to not have it around, just in case — and ‘just in case’ = the possibility of sharing my fragrant, beachy, perfectly exfoliated skin with a… ‘friend’. As it is, this scent almost exists almost entirely in my memory, because I allow myself to use it so rarely. (Which either says sad things about the state of my… ‘friendships’, or implies that I choose my ‘friends’ with extreme care. Let’s agree on the latter, shall we?)

Oh, but when I do decide to break out the V+B, I do it thoroughly and completely. The Body Buff is truly superb, and one of the top five I have ever used. The Soapy Suds come next, naturally, and of course it is all capped off with the wonderfully rich Body Butter. I only wish there was a shampoo and conditioner. And a perfume. And a — a hat, or something. I wish there were clothes that smelled like this.

You think I’m kidding, don’t you? I am so not. The smell of the seashore is hardwired into the pleasure centre of my brain, so that, like a rat in a Skinner box, once I get a whiff of beachy goodness all I want is more. Some of the best times of my life were spent oceanside, and a tonne of unencumbered joy is triggered by the glorious scent of the auld V+B. I am a great believer in aromatherapy, and the days in which I walk around, wafting the joyful fragrance of undiluted joy and optimism, I have a very joyful and optimistic day. It is totally true.

Body Buff £28/€39/$36, Body Butter £20/€25/$28, Soapy Suds £16/€22/$18

*I have absolutely no idea why the combination of vanilla + bergamot smells like the beach, but it does.

Nail Envy is Also the Name of a Product

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I tried to take a photo of my nails to show you how funky they are, but I may have to write the thousand words, ’cause the picture wasn’t worth it. Whenever I see women with gorgeous nails, I want to cry. Ugh, even the shape of my nails is WRONG, all spatulate and no nail bed to speak of. Waahh.

My nails are thin, ridge-y, and just plain weird. They grow in all floppy and crooked, which means I can’t grow them very long. Also, I am too lazy to take very good care of them, which is kind of ridic: I spend a lot of time at the computer, and should really be slapping on cuticle oil and God knows, because, well, I am basically a captive audience. If I do do a treatment of something, I can work away without messing anything up.

Okay: I’ve just placed the following within reach:

> Mavala Cuticle Oil

> Sally Hansen Gel Cuticle Remover

> Essie Fill the Gap! Ridge Smoothing Base Coat

> OPI Nail Envy: Nail Strengthener

Right. Obvs, won’t be using these, so I’ve started with the Nail Envy, given to me by the lovely Sophie, who gave me a superb file-and-polish at Neelu at Arnotts last week. Thinking of her now, she told me to use the cuticle oil everyday, so here I go… hmm, that wasn’t that hard. Just gave myself a going over with the Marala, and my cuticles look all smooth and shiny. And as I’m not about to go out and dig in the garden {Ahhahahahaha} the stuff has a good chance of doing what it’s meant to do.

As for the OPI, yesterday I put on the recommended two coats, and oh right! Hang on… wow, live-blogging my nail care. Just swiped on my day’s coat of Nail Envy, which I am meant to do for a week, then remove, then start all over again.

I don’t know if I should have waited to let the cuticle oil sink in all the way? Told you, rubbish at minding my nails.

Well, I’ll keep you posted…

Sweet Sixteen: Dermalogica Soothing Booster

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OMGGGGGGGGGGG. Why does my skin still insist upon breaking out? I am surely peri-menopausal at this stage, I really can’t continue to be brewing spots at that time of the month, can I?

Oh, yes, I can. Crikey, it’s annoying. More annoying is the fact that even after all these years of being told not to, I am still desperate to poke and pick at pimples. It’s gross, I know! But don’t even think about trying to convince me of your own virtuous, non-popping ways.

I have been extremely fortunate in the acne-department, in that I escaped the worst sorts of ravages that plagued several of my adolescent contemporaries, and that continue to torture lovely ladies of all ages. I don’t even feel like I should call my teenage eruptions acne: they were really only zits, which is an anodyne term, really, compared with some folks have to deal with.

Whatever the degree, we can all agree that no one wants even one stupid spot on their face, one which always makes its appearance at the worst possible time, and can sometimes be painful, to boot. The ones you get around your nose? Ugh. Just last month I had one that was in my nostril, and oh lordee, did I want to pop that bitch, but it never came to a head — okay, those ones, those are the worst.

The nostril-zit went away within two days, through the good offices of Dermalogica’s Gentle Soothing Booster. I know how those bad boys like to hang around, I’m sure I’ve had equally stubborn and painful little feckers like that hang about for at least a week (the ones at the hairline? Ach!) I had tried any number of things in the past, including that auld models-trick-using-toothpaste, but this little gem from our friends in The International Dermal Institute is the best thing I have ever used. Since I was sticking it up my nose, I noticed perhaps too well the slightly oily smell of the stuff, but apart from that minor quibble, I’d bronze this thing and set it on a plinth — except that I’d really prefer to use it.

€55.80/£43.50/$48.00

Sweet Sixteen: Clinique Clarifying Lotion

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When I was in my 20s, my godmother recommended that I start a proper skin care regimen. The gist of her argument was that just because I looked amazing and youthful right then didn’t mean that I could I take it for granted, and if I wanted to extend my years of amazingness and youthiness, I had better get cracking right away.

I chose Clinique. I can’t remember why, except that their fresh and spare ad campaigns made them, in my mind, modern and suited to my youthful amazingness. I got the 3-step thingie — the soap, the yellow moisturiser, and the Clarifying Lotion 2. I had to google the yellow stuff just now (Dramatically Different!) because I stopped using it ages ago, and the soap is distant, misty memory, but I have not yet found anything that is as effective as the Clarifying Lotion in terms of cleaning and toning the skin.

Despite its slightly astringent tingle, it doesn’t dry the skin. I just don’t feel like I’ve cleaned off the day if I don’t feel that blast of icy freshness. And who can argue with the power of Clinique Bonus Days! I ask you! Even after all these years of beauty largesse, the sight of a wee collection of cunningly assembled samples in some class of clever case sends a thrill racing through my veins. I’ve still got the mini bottle from that one Bonus that one Time, that had held Clarifying Toner — I continue to decant into it when traveling, and wouldn’t be without it.

Yes, indeed: many, many years on, it’s still a go-to/must have,/unassailable element of my beauty regimen. If you must know how many years it has been, well, I remember when all this product came in glass bottles. I think the years have been pretty kind to me, so clearly Clinique has done its job well. Many thanks to them, and to Auntie Sue, too!

€36/$46/£33

I see that InStyle agrees with me…