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What I learnt from going make-up free for a week
Going barefaced can give your skin a break, but is it possible for a beauty addict?
It got me thinking. TV presenter Emma Willis had just appeared barefaced in an Absolute Collagen photo shoot and noted that as your skin texture changes, make-up can accentuate imperfections rather than hide them.
Pamela Anderson’s been at it as well. Or rather not at it, in that she ditched the make-up for Paris Fashion Week last month. She said it was less a statement, more an ‘experiment’. The result? Many preferred her natural look.
While I’ve dabbled with being less make-up-dependent, dashing out sans slap when it suits, I’d never go ‘out-out’ without a bit of a glow-up. I decided to join Anderson’s experiment. Here’s how the diary panned out.
Day 1
WFH and shopping. Easy. Except in the cold light of day, I catch my reflection – sad and drawn. Interestingly, it’s not a lack of lippy or mascara I notice. It’s my complexion. As I have rosacea, I’ve become adept at muting redness. Without a light foundation, I look… older.
Science explains why. Studies have shown an uneven skin tone, for instance from sun damage or pronounced flushing, dials up contrast and dials down luminosity, which makes people judge you to be older. I realise I’m all about that base.
Day 2
A confidence challenge. Lunch at The Wolseley in London with make-up artist Daniel Sandler, who I used to work with on Cosmopolitan and haven’t seen in 25 years. If ever you want to look good, it’s for a reunion, especially one with a make-up pro.
At least my lashes and eyebrows are always tinted.
As I walk to the Tube – posh frock, plain face – someone I know calls out I look nice. Surprised, I head to the restaurant, where Daniel arrives, looking suave. There’s something rather charming about him seeing me as I really am… he genuinely thinks I look good. I realise my relationship with maquillage is not so much about how others view me. It’s more to do with how I see myself.
Day 3
A day of errands and I’m ready quick-smart, so I decide on an email catch-up. One bonus of forgoing face paint: more time on your hands.
Day 4
I’m actually forgetting to feel so self-conscious. My husband reminds me of a photo from our first holiday, 16 years ago – I have wet hair and zero make-up. I don’t like it. It’s his favourite. Another lesson: emotions, not how you look, make memories.
Day 5
Dentist. When I arrive, the computers are down and the hygienist is surprised when I give her my date of birth. Maybe this no make-up thing is working after all. Having a clean face here also seems more hygienic: when I end up with powder particles from the air polisher on my face, it’s easier to do a clean sweep.
Day 6
Fight Klub: time for a boxing workout. Usually, I sport a hint of make-up but given we jab in club-like darkness to jungle and drum ’n’ bass (I’m so down with the kids), why do I bother? I decide bare-faced fighting is for me.
Day 7
Last day, and I have to apply make-up for a magazine photograph. I vow to take it off again… until I’m reminded of an invite to Sunday lunch. I rush out, wearing my public face.
On arrival, I’m secretly grateful. When another guest, a violinist, explains how a bow is almost as important as the violin itself, I offer this lowbrow insight: ‘That’s like mascara. The formula is nothing without a great wand.’ You can take the make-up away from the girl, but never this girl away from the make-up.