So, I got this bee in my bonnet, right? This whole ‘face of Dior’ thing. You see it plastered everywhere. Glossy ads, those influencer types prattling on. And I thought, ‘Yeah, I can probably pull that off. What’s the big deal?’ Turns out, it is a big deal, or at least, a bigger faff than I thought.
First off, I hit the internet. Watched hours of so-called tutorials. These folks, they glide makeup on like they were born with a blending brush in their hand. And their skin? Flawless to begin with. Total setup, if you ask me. I spent a good afternoon just trying to figure out what half the products even were.
Then, the damage to my bank account. Strolled into one of those posh department stores. Felt like I needed to remortgage my house just to look at a lipstick. The sales assistant was lovely, but everything she pointed to had a price tag that made my eyes water. I grabbed a few bits they said were ‘key’ – a foundation that cost more than my weekly food shop, some fancy serum that promised miracles, and the works. My card was practically smoking when I left.
Got back to my place, all excited, like a kid with new toys. Spread out all my expensive loot on the bathroom counter. Tried to copy what I saw in those online videos. Dab here, swipe there. Blend, blend, blend until my arm ached and I wasn’t sure if I was putting makeup on or taking it off. The result? Let’s just say it was less ‘chic Parisian’ and more ‘startled owl after a very, very rough night out’. Not quite the Dior dream I had in mind.
And this ‘effortless’ nonsense they keep peddling! ‘Effortless beauty.’ Ha! I put in a solid two hours, probably sweated off half the product under the bathroom lights, and still looked like a failed art project. What’s the secret sauce they’re not sharing? Do these models just roll out of bed looking airbrushed? I seriously call BS on that one. There was nothing effortless about my attempt, I can tell you that for free.
Then it kinda dawned on me, as I was scrubbing my face clean. This ain’t just about slapping on some pricey gunk. It’s the whole shebang – the fancy lighting they use in shoots, the genius photographers, probably a truckload of Photoshop smoothing everything out. It’s a full-on production, a carefully crafted image. They’re selling you a fantasy, a lifestyle, not just a blusher or an eyeshadow palette.
I even cornered my mate Sarah about it later, she’s pretty clued up on this beauty stuff. Asked her straight, ‘What’s the actual deal with this “face of Dior” look? How do you really get it?’ She just snorted into her tea. Said something like, ‘Mate, the real “face of Dior” is probably some poor sod who gets paid an absolute mint to look perfect for precisely five minutes in front of a camera, then goes home and eats crisps in her PJs, just like the rest of us.’ That kinda stuck with me, you know?
It’s not one single look, is it? It’s more like a vibe. An ever-shifting, incredibly expensive vibe. Trying to bottle that, or recreate it in your own bathroom, is like trying to nail jelly to a wall. You think you’ve got it, you’ve spent the money, you’ve put in the time, and then BAM, a new campaign drops, a new face, a new ridiculously impossible standard to aspire to.
So, what’s the takeaway from my little adventure into the world of high-end cosmetics? Well, my wallet’s definitely feeling the pinch, no doubt about that. And I’ve now got some seriously overpriced makeup gathering dust in a drawer. As for achieving the ‘face of Dior’? Yeah, I think I’ll leave that to the professionals and the glossy pages of magazines. My own face, with all its glorious imperfections, is a whole lot less hassle to maintain. And frankly, it’s more my style anyway. Cheaper, too.
