Waxing lyrical

Trade names have different connotations in different countries.   The Vauxhall Nova car had to be renamed as in Spanish it translated as the 'Vauxhall Doesn't Work".  I was sent some Australian wax to try.  Unfortunately, it was called Nad's.  This immediately suggested Gonads, The waxing of, to me.  And to everyone I showed the pack to.  "Jesus! They have to change that name", said Simon, clutching his groin and wincing. 

The wax strips are excellent.  You use a desensitising wipe first, that contains Kava, which gives a cooling sensation, and then stick the ready waxed strip on and whip it off.  I was braced for agony, as the last time I had attempted waxing anything other than my Barbour (and no, that is not a euphemism)  I was fourteen, had chickened out half way through the first strip and had spent an hour in a scalding bath, crying and trying to get the wax to melt again so that I could remove the Body Strip calico strip that was attached to me.  In actual fact, whilst not actually making me scream with delight, the Nad's stuff certainly didn't hurt, especially after the first couple of strips when my body realised that I wasn't trying to kill it.  The results have lasted three weeks so far, and doing my legs took about ten minutes which is pretty good. 

They also sent some natural wax in a pot that you microwaved and then applied.  Jane tried this for me, and wasn't keen.  "It solidified too quickly after I melted it, so I had to keep re-melting it, and it was a bit too thick and gloopy.  The bits that worked, worked well, but it was a bit of a laborious process." 

So wax strips great, pot of stuff not so great.  Don't know how it works on your 'nads though.

Lippy lessons MK II

Ariane Poole has been a make-up artist for years, has worked with some amazing people, and is currently doing This Morning's make-up slot.  For someone so well-connected she is amazingly practical and no-nonsense.  For example, when I asked her for tips on under eye eyeliner and whether the "up and under" approach under the lashes was a good one, she pulled a face and said "Ugh.  I can't bear fiddling with my own eyes.  I can't even wear contact lenses.  I suggest to people that they do this" and she proceeded to put the eyeliner under the bottom lashes and then screw her eyes up like a small child whose lolly has just been forcibly removed.  "See!  It works" she said triumphantly.

She went through Sarah the cosmetics novice's make-up with a quiet ruthlessness.  "That's good, I like that...Oh dear,   I can see why you've never worn that one.  Some of these lipsticks are a bit too blue-based for you," etc. Eventually we came to a lipstick, the like of which I have never seen.  It had been used down to a nub, and then not content with that, Sarah had gone ferreting after the contents of the tube with a lipstick brush.  Sarah looked embarrassed.  "I really, really like that one" she said shiftily.  Ariane held up the empty tube to her eye like a telescope.  "I can tell," she said drily. 

It was a fascinating couple of hours.  Ariane reckons that most women use around 10% of the contents of their make-up bags.  The rest just sits there and makes them feel guilty when they add up how much it all cost.  Everything Ariane has in her make-up bag, she uses.  She taught Sarah how to apply blusher to the apples of her cheeks to widen her face, rather than the upward swoosh which narrows it.

For some women, the purchasing of the make-up itself is a trial.  "Choose someone behind the counter whose make-up you like" says Ariane.  "If you see someone wearing electric blue eyeliner and frosted pink lipstick you might want to re-think your approach."  When you try foundation on in a shop, don't apply it to the inside of your wrist ("completely pointless" says Ariane) but put a little dab on your chin.  And then let it settle...walk around for an hour.  "Some go lighter, some go darker, and some might feel a bit dry or greasy", she says.  "Letting it settle will make sure you are definitely getting the right product."

Ariane did one side of Sarah's face, and then Sarah did the other.  "It's easier than I thought" Sarah said.  She was relieved to be taught how to use concealer correctly as "the last time I put it under my eyes I whited myself out and I looked really waxy and weird".  The problem was that she was using too much and in the wrong places.  Ariane put a little dab in the inner and outer corner of her eye, and that was it.  No smearing tonnes of it around the eye sockets, otherwise you lose all your definition, Ariane says.

Ariane has taught lots of women, of all ages and experience. Some she has converted utterly from being vehemently anti-cosmetics.  Sarah felt "excited" after her lesson, and trotted off home, went online and bought the few bits of make-up Ariane suggested she buy.  She threw away half the contents of her make-up bag and kept the things Ariane had recommended.  "I don't mind buying the new stuff at all, because I know now that what I have bought, I'll use, and I'll know I am using it properly."  

Lippy lessons

Jerry Seinfeld says that secretly what most men are hoping for when they nonchalantly open the bonnet of a car that has broken down is a large switch which has accidentally been set to "off".  I believe women feel the same about make-up.  It is something they feel they should know about, without really having learned about it. 

Sarah is in her thirties and a mother of four.  She has around ten minutes maximum to do her make-up in the mornings, but that is not the reason why it is generally restricted to a quick blast of powder and some lipstick.  "I don't know what I am doing," she says frankly.  "I buy stuff, get it home and realise I have bought the same product twice.  I am drawn to colours that I swear don't suit me.  When I wore green eyeshadow I showed my eldest son who said 'that's nice Mummy.  It's like a bruise.'  What I need is a lesson in what to put where and how to get it there."  So I got her one, with Ariane Poole at Errol Douglas' salon.  I shall tell you how we get on in the next installment.

Here is Sarah's current make-up collection.....

For those for whom the word Ski means yoghurt

I had an Unreal spray tan from Rose at Treatmenice, which was great.  No missed bits, unlike the orange streaky mess I make of myself when I try and do it, and also Unreal has no strange roast chicken smell.  (The Chem Queen said she found herself on a hot tube train in the summer after using some fake tan saying to the man next to her "I am so sorry - my legs stink")

Anyway;  Unreal has now launched a retail range.  They sent me the UnReal’s Body Buff Exfoliator, with its "micro poly beads to ensure gentle exfoliation," which I didn't like much.  The cream bit slid off my skin and the micro poly beads didn't seem to do a great deal.  The UnReal Body Bronze Tan Extender was good.  A pleasant moisturising cream that gave a nice glow, like the summer moisturisers with the in-built tan, but the tanning gel was fabulous, especially on the face.  No streaks, not sticky and it made me look as if I had been on a refeshing ski-ing holiday, rather than stuck in East London wiping the noses of two small children.

Making it up

Got chatting to a  very interesting woman, Christine Walmesley-Cotham at Errol's the other day.  Christine works as a make up artist and hair stylist to lots of TV and film productions.  She is ideally placed to know the best make-up as she has used it all and has no vested interest in any of it;  she just likes stuff that works.  She said that all the actresses on a recent production were desperate to use the hugely expensive Chantecaille. Once they'd tried it for a few days, they sheepishly asked to change it as the coverage just wasn't deep enough to cope with spots etc.  She really rates MAC and Bobbi Brown.  Happily we both agreed on the obsession with moisturisers being a little insane (she has fabulous skin - she likes Dermalogica and for make-up uses "whatever is left over from the last session I did") and that cleansing is so much more important.  If you get that right, the need for over-priced blobs of grease that can't be absorbed properly anyway decreases.  We sniggered about the commitment by the BBC to get the make-up on costume dramas century appropriate (ie lots of chalky white faces in Austen and Bronte) whereas the Yanks just abandon realism and have Gwynnie parading around in Juicy Tubes lipgloss in 'Emma'.  "We'll spend $8m on getting the right saddle, but if we've paid $14m for an actress then forget authenticity, she'd better look good."   It is very very pleasing when you get to meet someone who is clearly an expert in their field and you genuinely agree with everything they say.  Very smug-making.  But of course that could have been the champagne agreeing with us both.....  

Tea's up

"Cor," said my daughter East Londonishly, "What's that stuff?  Is it the stuff you use to polish the brass candlesticks?  Or is it some coffee?  Why is it in the bathroom?"  It does look odd, this stuff . It's brown, and sort of glossy, with little discernable smell.  It works like a dream, though.  As I bang on about ad nauseum, you don't need moisturiser if you are using the right cleanser.  You just don't.  Me and Eve Lom, we are pretty sure about that.  Although she obviously still flogs a moisturiser at £60 a pot.  But I digress.  I have been using the Aubrey Organics Green Tea and Ginkgo Facial Cleanser for two weeks and in that two weeks I have not used moisturiser.  Not a smidge.  In the cold, huddled up next to the fire, on the school run in a howling gale and pouring rain, not a trace of tight skin have I felt.  It's fabulous stuff, made with Matcha Green Tea, packed to the gunwhales with antioxidants.    Just don't polish your candlesticks with it.

The Rev Trev

I interviewed Trevor Sorbie again for the Guardian last week. He was a delight, as always, and I managed not to fall off my chair and land in his lap this time (he remembered. Oh goody.) He has launched a pretty good range, with the emphasis on the type of hair you have (blonde, curly, straightened). I gave the leave in conditioner for Trupti to try, as she has very dry hair, and she went bananas over it and was trying to give me £40 to give Trevor to get more of it, like a crazed conditioner junkie, until she realised that it was on sale in Boots for about £4. I gave Flippa the mousse stuff as she has the usual "combination hair" - greasy at the roots and then dry at the ends. She uses it on the ends and then blow drys them straight to stop them flipping up and splitting. Flippa has a very absorbing job and pays very little attention to what is going on around her, bless her; she galloped up to me at the playground gate and said "What was that stuff you gave me to try? It's brilliant! What was it? I think it has changed my life. Well, my hair anyway." I've told her where to get it from but she'll never remember.

On the lash

What is it about eyelashes? Humans are attracted to faces that look symmetrical and young. Children's eyelashes are long in comparison with the size of their faces. Therefore we find long eyelashes appealing. Princess Diana peered through hers to emphasise her weird combination of innocence and coquetry in the infamous Martin Bashir interview, Liza Minnelli wore such long false lashes in Cabaret her eyes looked like two spiders trapped under milk bottles and beauty editors often cite eyelash curlers as their desert island beauty product. Errol Douglas salon is offering eye lash extensions. I watched them being done at the launch of Red Carpet Ready. A full upper lash set (£150) takes around one and a half hours to apply and will last up to 3 weeks. Sally had hers done and said that when the train came whooshing into the platform later she could feel them fluttering in the breeze. A ‘top up’ (from £50) is recommended every 2-3 weeks to maintain the look and takes a few minutes. The procedure involves individual false lashes being attached to your own natural lashes, and the effect is as natural as can be reasonably expected. You can also have wings, where false lashes are attached just to the outer section of the lashes. That looks subtle but gives the eyes a sexy "cat" look. Great for Christmas party season, and you don't need to use mascara on them either. The ultimate high maintenance outlay, low maintenance result.

I am writing a piece for Natural Health magazine on natural products that can help prevent signs of ageing. Age spots, sun marks or solar lentigines to give them their proper name, can be helped by...wait for it....lemon juice. Yep. On the back of the hand and arm, naturally. Lemon juice is not a good idea on the face. A'kin have produced some rose hip oil which has been getting good results, and that's fine for the face. I was sent some of their stuff to try. There were various oils to apply "as part of your evening ritual". Eh? Put pyjamas on, congratulate self on having the energy to brush teeeth, snigger at bitchy film reviews in New Yorker, go to sleep. Bingo. End of ritual. I asked my friend Nicky to try these - she has good skin, but it's a bit "mental", she explained. On questioning, this means that it flares up for no good reason now and again. She loved the Brightening Spray. "It feels light and floral and gorgeous, and is lovely to go to bed in" but she just couldn't bring herself to believe that putting the oil serum on her face would not bring her out in an oily rash, so she panicked and gave the oil product to her husband, who is black, uses oil on his skin all the time and never reacts. I did point out to her that she has never reacted to it either, she just thinks she is going to. Middle Eastern and African cultures use oil all the time, for cleansing, refreshing, moisturising and feeding the skin. Northern Europeans seem to prefer foaming things full of sodium laureth sulphate that strip the oil out of our skin, and then we replace it with moisturiser.