Facing the music

Posted by Isabel Dexter at 19:58 on 21 Jul 2009

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Having kept trying and failing to purchase the cult French skin cream Embryolisse at the local chemist (and in fact, any chemist in a four mile radius) I enlisted the help of Cecile. Cecile wears no makeup, has perfect skin and kept thinking I was trying to trick her into buying contraception for me. Apparently despite its pretty high media profile nowadays, certain Paris chemists don’t like to sell Embryolisse to English beauty writers.

Instead, Cecile had to promise that the creams were in fact for her mother and not for me “to take back and sell them to my friends”. Honestly, I am a girl who chose to flog her old YSL sandals on Brick Lane market on an old motorbike tarpaulin rather than bother with ebay. Natalie Massenet I am not. Although I am starting to believe that paranoia is part of the Parisian psyche.

Eventually, I was restricted to one moisturiser and one cream cleanser. Ration books anyone? Afterwards I had to buy Cecile a 20 euro cocktail to make up for the ordeal. But no matter, since a makeup artist friend recommended the Crème Vitaminée to me four years ago I’ve been a woman obsessed. It gives a radiant, plumped-up look that’s perfect for giving you that baby-face look that apparently we are all craving. Since someone thought I was three years older than my fake age this weekend and actually sort of sniggered when I corrected her it's either this or the dreaded botox.

Meanwhile, I discovered a box of vitamins in the flat of the gorgeous French girl who I've swapped apartments with. Being on deadline this week has seriously inhibited my ability to leave the house and buy actual vegetables. So along with the pain au chocolats I've been munching on 'juvamine' as though they are Skittels. "1 par jour" is just a recommendation, right?

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