make up

16 things I wish I could put on my Christmas list

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15 things I wish I could put on my Christmas list 21. Pyjamas with built-in Tasers to stun me out of bed in the morning.

2. 200 toilet rolls. The dullest gift ever, perhaps, but not having to buy any for a year or so would be swell.

3. A flesh-coloured umbrella so I can sew the DAMN THING to my skin if that’s what it takes to stop me losing it.

4. As above for my gloves, phone, house keys and Tesco Clubcard.

5. A smartphone that stays charged for more than ten minutes.

6. Every single birthday, Christmas and congratulations for getting a job/car/wife card I need to send next year; written, addressed and stamped, and with alarms set in my phone to remind me when to post them.

7. A mascara that beeps when it disappears under the bed, into my underwear drawer, down the toilet or wherever the hell it goes every morning when I’m trying to make myself look presentable.

8. A device that will tell me all the ingredients I’ve already got at home when I’m in the supermarket and losing the will to live.

9. A television that looks different to each viewer, for example, my husband would see FIFA 14 and The Walking Dead, whilst I would see Coronation Street and Boyzone at 20. (You might think it would be simpler to just get a second television but we live in a one-bedroom London flat and there is not room; the TV we have already doubles up as a dining table.)

10. 365 Cadbury’s Boosts. That should see me through at least half of 2014.

11. Eyebrows that don’t require 24-hour care. Or otherwise enchanted tweezers that can sort them out when I’m asleep and give me my life back.

12. The Dawson’s Creek box set. Nobody is going to buy me that.

13. A robotic laundry basket that will walk downstairs, empty itself into the washing machine and identify the appropriate setting of its own accord. (If it would also come back to empty the machine and pop everything on the rack too that would be ace but I realise that’s a big ask.)

14. Tights so thick it’s like wearing three pairs at once. The combined squeeze of three waistbands is rather uncomfortable.

15. A year’s worth of internet-ready, ROFL-worthy blog posts so I can go back to spending Sunday afternoons like I used to – either eating, shopping or repeatedly avoiding doing the gardening.

16. Perspective.

Merry Christmas readers!

Absolutely made up

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PicAs the lead up to our wedding day reached the 13-months-to-go mark I decided to commence what I am calling the Beautification Process. I am hoping that just over a year will be long enough to bring my appearance up to bridal standard but only time will tell.

On my long list of personal concerns, skin care and make up have been at the top for some time (as discussed at length in Facing facts – beauty is only skin deep a short while ago). Feeling inadequate in the facial region is a bit tough, what with it being up here on my head for the world to see day in day out, so I decided that the time had come to do something about it.

Having shopped more times in my 27 years so far than some do in a lifetime, I have walked many-a-time past the beauty counters of department stores and peered nervously at the products on show. And just when a shockingly well-presented sales assistance comes over and asks if I need any help, I scarper and head for the nice safe handbag section and hide behind a satchel. No-one will approach you if you’re looking at a satchel.

And I have always hidden because I am scared that one of these immaculate women will look at me and my neglected features and laugh hard into their tills. The mere idea of having someone inspect my skin and tell me everything I had done wrong was too horrifying to entertain.

But with a wedding on the horizon and much celebration and tomfoolery beforehand, I can no longer hide from peering eyes. They are going to be on me and I am going to have to like it.

Having recently discovered primer – thanks to a miniature freebie in a magazine I am probably now too old to read – I ventured into my local Debenhams to pick up some more. And just as I was looking confusedly at all my other options, I heard the fateful words ‘Can I help you?’ Well, the bag department must have been out of sight because 30 seconds later I was sat in a chair and being given a full Bare Minerals makeover.

And what a lovely experience it was too. The picture I had painted in my crazy crazy mind of an intimidating expert using a magnifying glass to inspect my pores was not accurate. The woman who helped me was so nice and completely non-judgmental; just further evidence that my mind is not to be trusted.

And now I pretty much have an entirely new face. Yes, ok, the eyes nose and mouth are largely where I left them, but the skin around it is looks a hell of a lot better. And also, as a bonus, I don’t look like I have been tangoed, as we used to say in the nineties. With my new miracle make-up and cleansing concoctions (not their official names but I’m feeling extremely optimistic) in hand I headed home to peer at the results. I would call it intrigue more than vanity – it’s amazing what you can do with a little bit of powder and a right big brush.

I even bought some night-time Active Cell Serum which, I’m told, will give my skin the new lease of life it needs. So now, every night, I lie down, close my eyes, and wait for my new face to grow. Any day now.

So there we have it, another little fear faced and item one on the 1,999-long wedding checklist ticked off. It turns out that if I have a problem I should find a way to solve it instead of being such a giant tool about it.

They don’t give gold medals out for this kind of achievement so I will just have to settle for bronze…r. (That was a make-up joke although, admittedly, not a very funny one).

Facing facts – beauty is only skin deep

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244There are some parts of being a girl that I am pretty good at.

I’ve got walking in heels sorted, I am just about able to identify when a bad mood is down to a genuine irritation or when my hormones are playing tricks, and I would say with confidence that I have nailed the art of relationship neurosis (In my many years’ experience of playing the ‘will-he-won’t-he-call-me game, I have learnt that the answer is simply that no, he will not).

But whilst I have got all of those crucial fragments of femininity sorted out, a few other things have fallen behind.

Whilst staring helplessly into the mirror last night, a wave of panic set in as I examined my face.

When I was a teenager I used to comfort myself with the thought that when I was a grown up, my skin would miraculously improve and I would look back and laugh at my teenage visage. And yet now, ten years on, things are actually no better at all. The shine has not gone, the pores have not cleaned up their act, and the less said about the ever changing colour of my cheeks the better.

And, as frustrated as this makes me, I could perhaps have just found a way to live with the situation was I not 13 months and 12 days away from the most scrutinised day of my life – my wedding.

Whilst obviously making me extremely happy, being engaged has also added reams of new additions to my list of fears. Step aside Fear of the Dark and Irrational Worries about a Spider Invasion – I’m going to spend the next year panicking about saying ‘I do’ whilst the registrar looks at his reflection in my forehead.

The expectation that I will walk down the aisle looking like a borderline goddess on the Big Day causes me hourly if not half-hourly panic. “You want to look like yourself but just 100 TIMES BETTER” my friends say, helpfully. That’s all well and good but don’t you think that if I knew how to conjure up that little miracle I would do it every day?

I just don’t know when I’m supposed to have learnt how to do all this stuff. I remember the lesson we were given at school about periods vividly and the one about contraception will stay with me forever (I’ve never been able to look at a courgette the same way since) but ‘How to cleanse/tone/exfoliate/wax/shave/tweeze/moisturise yourself to true happiness’ must have been missed from our syllabus.

But with the fear of bridal embarrassment on the horizon, I have decided to up my game and get better at this big girl thing. I even spent 15 minutes this evening searching for the face mask I splashed out on a couple of weeks ago to start getting my appearance up to scratch. The fact that I couldn’t actually find it made for a rather bad start but I kept the headband I put on in preparation on anyway to make me feel like I was in a spa. Baby steps people, baby steps.

I think that what I need is just a bit of assistance – someone to take a look at my skin, critique my daily regime and send me off on my way to beauty town. Or perhaps to my nearest heavy veil retailer – whichever is cheapest.