March
Our little island nation, how we have suffered over the centuries. 800 years of oppression from the Brits, then we finally achieve independence, only to discover that their mail-order companies wouldn’t deliver to our glorious republic. To rub salt into the wound, they were usually prepared to deliver to the 6 counties.
Anyway, it’s all different now and millions of cosmetic firms are prepared to post things to us.
Bliss (blisslondon.co.uk or 0044 808 100 4151) is a legend. (There’s an Irish company with the same name, but sadly they’re not the same crowd.) Founded by Marcia Kilgore not so very long ago, considering how successful it is, it started with a spa in Manhattan, then a capsule range of their salon products went on sale in Saks of 5th Ave, and honestly, mes amies, when I first saw it I went dizzy and nearly toppled on top of it, so great was my excitement. Their Lemon and Sage soapy sap, softening socks and foot scrubber – made with diamond dust grit – is really good gear.
Then, overnight, they suddenly had a massive range of products, not all of them a success – I asked my sister to get me their new Plum Plum soap (not a bar of soap, but gloopy soap in a jar) for Christmas because she lives in New York where there’s a Bliss outlet on every corner (and the streets are paved with gold.) But she refused – yes refused! – to buy it on the grounds that it smelt far too synthetic. Instead she bought me the (also new) Vanilla and Bergamot soap which I’m not enjoying at all on the grounds that – yes!- it smells far too synthetic. HOWEVER, their skin products are astonishing. I’ve been using their Sleeping Peel Mask and Serum Kit – a home dermabrasion combo – and I knew something had happened when I did a double-take in the mirror and thought, There’s something funny going on with my skin and not in a bad way.
Very, very different but no less desirable is Liz Earle (lizearle.com or 0044 1983 813999.) I suppose Bliss is quite brash, quite New York, whereas Liz Earle – who is a real person from the Isle of Wight – has a more feathery strokery ethos: no chemical sunscreens, no animal ingredients, organic whenever possible, this is skincare with a conscience. And the products are BRILLIANT, they’re always winning awards. Their Hot Cloth Cleanser is similar to the Eve Lom one, but a fraction of the cost (£10.75 including – yes! cloth.) Their Skin Tonic (alcohol-free, riddled with skin-calmers like aloe vera, chamomile and cucumber, and smelling like real flowers) is the best I’ve ever had. And again, ACUTELY reasonably priced. (Big bottles, lasts for ages.)
Liz Earle are also brilliant at the mail order thing – they take Customer Care very seriously. You can ring and discuss your problematic skin with a kindly lady and she’ll recommend the most appropriate products. (Do not worry, you won’t be forced to buy the entire shop, these people are not swizzers.) Ingredient lists of all the products are on the site, they do regular newsletters, offer an auto-reorder facility and will send a mini-kit for your friend when you place your first order. In other words, they’re very, very nice.
Jo Malone probably needs no introduction, especially if you’re a regular reader of this column. (www.jomalone.co.uk or 0044 20 7720 0202.) I’m forever banging on about how happy her candles make me. However, I should also stress that she does an extensive range of skin and body care – personal favourites include Orange and Geranium night cream, Red Roses body lotion and Vitamin E Gel (vital for long flights.) They make the most brilliant presents. Say if you accidentally call your boyfriend’s mother a judgemental old heifer – God knows, it happens – and she refuses to accept your apologetic phone call (you know what these judgemental old heifers are like.) Normally you’d send flowers to convey the abjectness of your remorse, but why not send a beautifully boxed trio of Wild Fig and Cassis soap? (Judgemental old heifers tend to like soap, I find. Not gloopy soap in a jar from Bliss but good, sturdy, old-fashioned, long-lasting bars.) Or if your friend has just had a baby, don’t send flowers – she’s probably sick looking at flowers and has run out of vases and is sticking them in the kettle and the water filter. (Or the bin.) Instead send something from Jo Malone to remind her – indeed everyone - that she’s still a human being and not just a brood mare. Ginseng Day cream, for example, and Apricot and Aloe Eye Gel to combat those sleepless nights. And Protein Skin Serum, for the same reason. And for while she’s rocking the baby in the middle of the night, why not send a nice candle to keep her company…
Next, Space NK (Spacenk.com 0044 20 8740 2085) It’s a shop, with branches all over the place although not in ROI. They do a small but perfectly formed range of their own – shower gels, body-cream, candles etc for both men and women – very, very nice. But they also carry some other carefully selected, cutting-edge ranges. For example - magnificent Laura Mercier - because Laura Mercier started off as a make-up artist, her great skill is in creating perfect skin. She does all these products like skin primers and foundation and concealers and powder and in the right combination, you get a sophisticated, flawless, timeless face. Every woman should experience it. Another brand they sell is delicious Darphin, the Haute Couture Beauty programme, which is enjoying a cult revival. (Very big in New York and god knows, they’re hard to please.) And adorable Stila, which is very reactive to the worlds of film and fashion (at the moment they’re doing the make-up for england’s National Ballet and it’s available for purchase by non-ballerinas) so their products are always highly zeitgeisty.
In my experience, it’s far more advisable to order on-line than to try and buy things in SpaceNK shops because they have a touch of Nue Blue Eriu about them. (Nue Blue Eriu, Boulevard of Broken Dreams. Whenever I go in, I can’t get anyone to serve me, the staff are like shy woodland creatures who skitter away at the sight of a customer. Then, even though the shop is crammed with gear, the things I want are locked in a glass case and no-one can find the key. And when I come back half-an-hour later, as instructed, they’ve sold my stuff. It’s like there’s a plot – whatever you do, don’t sell her anything. Anyway, I digress.)
Finally, HQhair.com. Don’t be mislead by the name, frankly I was hard-pressed to find hair stuff. It’s mostly cosmetics and they have a MASSIVE range of mostly non-high-street products. All kinds of brands from long-established classics like Mario Badescu, right-on feathery-strokery stuff like Ren, Burts Bees and Badger Balm. ‘Red-carpet’ brands like Fake Bake, St Tropez, Duwop, Strivectin and Supersmile (tooth whitener.) Fun make-up from Cake and Hard Candy. And super-wonderful, responsible brands like Dermalogica. It’s all there.