Beauty, they say, is priceless. Yet the literal and metaphorical receipts tell me otherwise. When, this summer, Louis Vuitton debuted its makeup line under the creative direction of Dame Pat McGrath, the collective jaw of the beauty world dropped. Not because it was spectacular – it was/is – but because the lipsticks are £120.
I had the privilege of trying them pre-launch. The pigments are lush; the chic packaging – weighted and refillable – is by industrial designer Konstantin Grcic; the bullets are perfumed with mimosa, jasmine and rose, because why not smell like a jaunt through the ultimate garden every time you open your mouth? These are objets d’art – almost too beautiful to use. But beware, if you do use them use them, you will be locked in. Once you’ve had a taste of a lipstick that feels like haute couture for the lips, Boots No7 will struggle to compete. If it helps, the refills are £52 – which in this context feels practically thrifty.
On the scent side, three-figure fragrances are now the norm – perhaps because unless you are like my teenage nieces who are still dabbling in dubious taste, there is great demand for fragrances that aren’t 99.9% alcohol. Still, I often wonder, are we wearing perfume or investing in liquid assets? When you add that to the rolling expenses on nails, hair, facials, waxes, supplements, gym memberships, acupuncturists, etc, and the hours spent working in order to afford the hours spent maintaining ourselves, you realise we have become a generation of maintenance people.
Of course, this concept of beauty maintenance is nothing new – Cleopatra famously had her kohl and (apparently) bathed in donkey’s milk. What is new, however, is the level of upkeep that now counts as basic. Ironically, this modern approach to beauty is often framed as a form of empowerment. We choose this! It feels good! It’s self-care! Personally, I believe in the joy of a red lip, in the magic of a foundation that mimics the skin, and even in our sometimes ridiculous faith in beauty’s promises (I once dreamed someone stole my moisturiser and I cried in my sleep… yes, that was a low point). But if “empowerment” comes with a punishing price tag – financial and otherwise – is it still empowerment? Or has it become a tax we accept for the privilege of presenting ourselves in public? We all know how unforgiving the world can be towards women who “let themselves go”. Chipped nails, undone roots or an unwaxed bikini line are rarely neutral – they’re read as a failure of character.
So here’s the question: is it worth it? The maddeningly unsatisfying answer is: sometimes. Beauty has always been a paradox: deeply shallow yet profoundly human, personal and powerful. Perhaps the most radical act is not to abandon beauty altogether – few of us are ready to renounce our mascara – but to indulge only when it delights, resist when it drains, and above all, to remember that you are not obliged to treat your face or your body like a costly renovation project.
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Sleep cheat: Space NK has joined forces with Soko Glam, the Korean beauty experts, to bring a coterie of K-Beauty brands to our attention. Neogen’s double-sided exfoliating pads have long been a favourite of mine. Pre-soaked with a cocktail of non-irritating ingredients, they leave you with skin that looks luminous, calmer and well rested. Even when you are not. Neogen Dermalogy Green Tea Moist Pha Gauze Peeling, £28, Space NK
Blur effect: My lips have always craved – and therefore trialled – the slightly blurry, matte, powdery textures of blushers. But they’ve never really worked. Violette FR must have heard my cry, hence the launch of Plume Lip. A matte, featherlight, pigmented formula, it leaves the lips with a soft-focused filter. Violette_FR Plume Lip, £32, Violette FR
Magic touch: Not everyone can get a facial under the hands of celebrity facialist Keren Bartov. But you can get the next best thing: her Advanced Skin Repair Serum. Full of peptides, niacinamide to even tone and hyaluronic acid to hydrate, consider this cult serum her magic, bottled. Keren Bartov Advanced Skin Repair Serum, £160 (30ml), Keren Bartov
Photograph Shaw + Shaw
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