Simply awful

Recently, as I perused a trashy magazine, I became intrigued - then won over - by an ad for a new BB cream being hawked by Simple. I know we've all been bored to tears by blah-blah creams in the last few years; in fact, the next beauty editor to commission a feature-length Q&A on them is going to get happy-slapped by yours truly. 

But honestly, this was an ad that screamed: "I'm trustworthy! Buy me!" So I did and: oh dear. I was having an awful day anyway - a loved one is seriously ill, for example - and I thought it would be a treat to try my new BB cream. My first glimpse of what lay inside the tube is where this anecdote begins its downhill trajectory. I could see instantly that its lurid orange tone - billed as a "universal shade" - wasn't really going to fit the bill as I am of course coloured like a Geisha - only whiter. 

Still, I plugged away, forging ahead fearlessly with a good application. First up, it doesn't cover anything. Ok, I admit: I do have factor 4 acne. But even when I put it in places where no P. acnes resides, like my forehead, it still looked like a smeary, greasy, disgusting mess. Don't bother asking yourself, Will it blend? It doesn't.

All of this is elevated by what the beauty industry lulzily calls "illuminating particles", but what any 3-year-old can tell you is glitter. Oh that old joke, still as unfunny as ever! I don't know what sort of reasonably-minded individual they think would want to have glittery foundation all over their face, but they won't give up on the idea that easily. Glitter is a particularly heinous addition to this BB cream because as the day wore on and oxidisation occurred, turning me ever more orange and sticky, the sparkly stuff made me look not just ill, but mentally ill. At best people were asking me if all was well, at worst they looked on with pity in their eyes. 

If that's what you crave, this is the one for you. Me, I've never been so happy to wash something off.