A Frenchman wearing Cuban heels adds a dash of flash to Phyl Clarke'snew look.
When a leading brand decides to relaunch its make-up line, no expense is spared. Competition is fierce - for our attention and for our euro. The Clarins brochure that landed on my desk was a state-of-the-art glossy, with an embossed logo on a metallic silver cover (the colour of the season, just in case you've been on Mars). It's a brand that has been around forever, and their body products are second to none, but when it came to the make-up, I never quite found what I was looking for, and suspected that Clarins colours and the Irish skintone were not made for each other.
The new packaging was eye-catching, however, and I could see myself powdering my nose very stylishly in public with the new compact. Furthermore, the brochure promised "a new way of looking at yourself, making beauty a party, a pleasure and a rainbow" - give the copy-writers an award! To top it off, I was invited to have a consultation with their international make-up artist, Claude Desfresne (below). Would I be free? Mais, oui. The prospect of having my beauty regime discussed in a French accent held a certain je ne sais quoi.
I heard the Cuban heels before I saw the leather trousers coming at me as he crossed the room with three long strides. He certainly looked the part, I thought, perched on a high stool, waiting for the master's touch. Full of Gallic charm, he gave me his undivided attention as we set about discussing . . . me. Why doesn't my husband care so much about the colour of my mascara or the texture of my blush, I wondered, as we went through the new range.
As a part of their current campaign, Clarins have created six different looks for the same model, which just goes to show how you can set about to re-invent yourself from one end of the day to the other. Simply choose a look and make a booking at a Clarins counter to see how best to achieve it. You can then do your own make-overs at home.
"I need to look polished and confident for the meeting I'm attending later this afternoon," I confided to my new best friend. Claude asked if there would be men or women around the meeting table. When I told him it would be mostly men, the red lipstick flew into his hand quicker than you could say "maquillage", and he announced that we would be recreating the "passionate" look. This sounded perfectly reasonable to me. His brushes were on a table some feet away, which gave him the opportunity to stand back and assess his work as he progressed. It also allowed him to swirl around theatrically, Cuban heels clicking, sweeping the brush hand into an arc before delicately landing it on my face to apply a finishing touch here and there.
He passed on a great tip: after blush, dust a veil of translucent powder over the cheek, to give the impression that the blush is coming from within the skin. My finished look was polished, with glowing skin and fresh, understated eyes and cheeks. The red lipstick finished it off perfectly. I returned to the office to a great many oohs and ahhs, and a second glance from the security man.