The Times' top 25 skincare products of 2009. Best to clickety click on the link and make your own mind up; I'd like to review the products for you myself but I'd have to remortgage my flat in order to buy them all.

I always find it interesting that the Times' taste in cosmetics is prohibitively aspirational but their annual beauty awards, which are voted for by their readers. are invariably in favour of the Maybellines and Oil of Olays from your local branch of Tesco. I choose to conclude two things from this: 1. broadsheet style pages peddle a pretentious and fictional lifestyle that is beyond the reach of the vast majority of even their own middle class readership, and 2. just because a moisturiser costs forty quid doesn't mean it's going to be any more effective than your nan's Nivea.

FRAPPUCCINOS GIVE YOU CANCER, EXPERTS FIND!

Or in other words, frappuccinos are surprisingly high in calories, and habitually consuming food and drink which is high in calories risks might make you fat, and being fat *might* increase your risk of cancer, although the jury's well and truly out on that one.

Or in other words, the World Cancer Research Fund have too many funds and are picking on Britney's favourite roadside refreshment for a piece of the ARGH! ARGH! OBESITY EPIDEMIC!! media frenzy pie. Seriously, do they think we're stupid? I'm shit at science but even I can see this for what it is: a crap gimmick from a group of researchers with nothing to say and a hankering for some headlines.

Anyways, the indigance of reading this NON-NEWS aside, it really is surprising to see how many calories there are in iced coffees and here's a very pleasing visual aid to help you get the best value caffeine boost from your liquid calories.

A large hazlenut mocha is roughly equivalent to a Big Mac. But if you're looking at a huge plastic bucket filled with syrup and whipped cream and assuming it's the equivalent of a shot of espresso then you probably did conclude from that WCRS study that coffee causes cancer and therefore do need to be told these things. You div.

I've just discovered that Stila have been saved from foreclosure by private equity firm Patriarch Partners.


Now, I'm no business tycoon but I didn't need to have a finger on the pulse of the stock market to suspect Stila were on the rocks. Shopping is my style of market research and I've watched this once popular, innovative brand become ghettoised in the darkest, smelliest department store corners before disappearing altogether, its products surfacing on fell-off-a-lorry discount websites in the US for a fifth of their retail price.


Stila was the girlish hip young thing on the cosmetics scene ten years ago and was acquired by Estee Lauder in 1999. Since then Stila's whimsical retro-girlie USP has been adopted by successful brands like DuWop and Benefit who have effectively run with their baton.


But Stila have a few cult classics up their sleeve that haven't been replicated by the newer kids on the block and I'm excited to see how it will benefit from their new owner's apparent specialism in rebuilding troubled companies.


And to stocking up on more of their classic shimmer shadow in Kitten which is like gold dust due to distribution issues since my own is looking VERY thin on the ground these days. I'll be looking out for a replacement when I'm next doing some "market research".

I didn't wear mascara today. Yes, fascinating I know.

It's not that I didn't intend to wear mascara. Let me make this clear: I ALWAYS INTEND TO WEAR MASCARA. I overslept and in a resourceful time-management decision like the busy important woman I am decided I could carry out the necessary application on the bus. (Yes, I often poke at my eyes with sticks in moving vehicles. It's all fun and games until somebody loses an eye etc).

Except I forgot my trusty golden tube of Faux Cils in my rush out the door so spent my day considering how dramatically improved my field of vision was of everything north of my fringe. Sky! Clouds! Light fixtures! Tall people! I never realised mascara my mascara was blinkering me.

In the case of a piano falling towards me from the top of a building or act of God, my mascara addiction could get me squished.

Sobering, ladies. Sobering. Or perhaps I just wear too much mascara?

Nah. Now I'm being ridiculous.

So I’m starting a blog about makeup. Judging by the quizzical expressions on the faces of some of the people I’ve told about this, this is a little bit weird.

But if you put them together, blogs and makeup are a good match, aren’t they? Without wanting to come over too Undergraduate-Cultural-Studies they're both about self-presentation. When used appropriately both promote a sparkling public persona.

Hence the phrase “putting one’s face on” I guess. Makeup's not about hiding behind a mask. It’s about making your innate gorgeousness unavoidable, highlighting the features that make you beautiful. It's even--please don't be sick--a little bit empowering. There I said it.

Nevertheless it's surprising just how little many of us know—how little I knew till I started reading them—about how to use makeup. I mean, we buy a lot of it, but how adept are we at actually putting the stuff on? Most of our technique as adults is derived from experiments in our bedrooms with a Rimmel gift set, aged 14, smudging the stuff on with our fingers. We're pretty much self-taught, and with that considered I think we do pretty damn well.

But there's a multi-billion dollar industry out there, and some of it actually works. It's just a matter of finding what works for you, within your budget, and knowing how to make the most of it.

And if you are so kind to pop in occasionally you might pick up some things I’ve learnt on an afternoon at Selfridges or YouTube demo that could help you do just that. You don't need to be an obsessive like I am, or spend a small fortune, or spend half an hour every morning. You don't even need a steady hand.

I can't say yet just what will end up in this blog, but whatever it is, I hope it'll be useful. And I hope it'll be fun.

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