I’m addicted to beauty products since 17

From shower gels to day creams, serums and lipsticks, Marian Keyes can’t resist buying her favourite things.

MY NAME is Marian and I’m a beauty addict. Since the age of 17 I have never — and I mean never — left the house without foundation.

It all goes back to my childhood (doesn’t it always). My mammy, an ordinary suburban woman, in a time when money was tight and vanity was frowned upon, took good care of her skin. I internalised that basic healthy message and put my own addictive spin on things. I adore, not just skincare but every aspect of cosmetics and I’m a real sucker for anything ‘new’. (I have about 17 Chubby Sticks rolling round in the bottom of my handbag.)

It’s impossible to say how much I spend on it all because:

a) I can’t even bear to think about it and b) it happens in binges. I don’t buy cosmetics online, but even if I go to a chemist to buy cold-sore ointment, I’m drawn irresistibly to the essence stand. But code red is an airport duty-free. The sense of freedom generated by ‘holiday-time’ coupled with the vast array of stuff to be bought, makes me loose any connection with reality. The word ‘frenzy’ wouldn’t be out of place.

Nevertheless, despite my susceptibility to anything new, I do have some products that I consider essential. Let me take you through them, starting with when I wake up. I make no secret of the fact that I find it almost impossible to face having a shower. The only way I can do it is in collaboration with a lovely shower gel. The Body Shop’s Vineyard Peach shower gel, €8.95, and body butter, €18.95, smell so sweet and uplifting that they generate a genuine upswing in my mood.

Then it’s moisturiser time. My attitude to skincreams has become daringly subversive — I’m really not sure if the dearer the product is, the better its efficacy. I do think I should mind my skin, take my makeup off, use sun-block and all that. But is, let’s say, Crème de la Mer any better than No 7’s moisturiser? I. Don’t. Know. I do think some skin products have a topical effect — what I mean is that as soon as you apply them, your skin tightens or does something pleasing, but whether it makes any longterm difference, I can’t say. What I will say is that there’s a great thrill in getting an expensive cream in a lovely box, with cellophane and layers of corrugated cardboard, and if the cream smells nice then so much the better.

But the undeniable fact, no matter how nice the box is, even if I get a little spatula to apply the cream, I’m getting older. I’m looking older. And is there anything wrong with that? No. Really there isn’t. The stuff I apply might well be slowing the whole ageing process down. However, I also employ the cunning ruse of being a right big fatso — which plumps out my wrinkles so much that people think I have far less than I actually do.

OK, so having established that I don’t know whether or not the skincare stuff works miracles, I am nevertheless devoted to certain products. Starting with Estée Lauder Advanced Night Repair, €54. (I use it in the morning as well as the night because that’s the kind of rebel I am.) Then I slather my face with my beloved Dermalogica’s Super-Rich Repair, €49.50, because I have skin as dry as the Sahara and if I use any other product my skin tightens up like a raisin during the day. For around my eyes and mouth I use Dermalogica’s Age Smart Multivitamin power firm, €31, a divine-smelling unguent.

Then I put on my sun protection. I’m a great sunprotection bore. Nevertheless, I’m in the very shameful position of currently being ‘between’ sun-protectors. I use LaRoche Posay’s factor 50 but I’m currently out of it.

Right, eyes. Unless I’m going out on the town (ie never) I like to wear neutrals. I’m waiting with bated breath for Clinique’s Chubby Eyes to come on sale but in the meantime my head has currently been turned by a divine new range called Aerin which has two elegant palettes (in each one you get two eye colours, a highlighter and a blusher, €56.) Then I use a dark green liquid eyeliner called HD Skinliner, £12.95, from Kryolan, a very interesting German brand, bought from Charles Fox in London. The Kryolan products are fascinating, ambitious and unlike anything I’ve encountered.

Since I started on the eyelash extensions, I’ve had less use for mascara, but when I do need it, I’m loving Estee Lauder’s Sumptuous Two-Tone eyeopening mascara, €32. It’s a double-ended mascara — black for the top lashes and a choice of brown, plum or blue for the bottom lashes (I steer clear of the blue. I did blue mascara the first time round). The idea is that the two different colours ‘opens’ your eyes and it works remarkably well. Even when my beloved eyelash extensions have fallen out this mascara gives me very, very long lashes.

Next comes my foundation. I adore foundations and I’m a total commitment-phobe. I’m always interested in the new. At the moment I’m wearing the YSL Le Teint Touche Eclat because it’s well … new.

Then it’s time to play Hide-The-Pores and I use Benefit’s Porefessional, €34. This is one of those topical products. It’s astonishing. You apply it to your big-pored area (the pores on my chin are so massive I’ve lost pieces of crockery in there) and instantly, and I mean instantly, the pores are gone. I’m not sure if the gear fills the holes or tightens the area. But as soon as you take it off, the pores reappear and you start losing plates in there again. But that’s OK, so long as you know what you’re getting then you won’t be disappointed.

Despite my advanced age, I still get the occasional spot — can you fecking believe it? When will it end? When I’m 80? They’re usually hormonal and I banish them with Roc’s Purif-Ac fast action gel (approx €10), which gives a pleasant mildlyburny feeling. (If it hurts, it must be doing me some good.) Then I cover the area with one of La Roche-Posay’s corrector Pen brushes. My blusher is from the same Aerin palette as my eye colours, then I give myself a quick once-over with Aerin’s Pretty Bronze Illuminating Powder, €42.50. (I use a Nars brush to apply.)

Finally, lip colour. My love for Clinique’s Chubby Sticks continues unabated, €19. I love the colour range, colour saturation, non-stickiness and crayon-style format. Eight new colours are coming in November and I am beside myself.

Obviously at some stage all this lovely stuff has to be taken off. I use Dermalogica UltraCalming cleanser, €26. Then I got eyelash extensions which aren’t really meant to be touched, so now I also use Roc’s Double Action Eye Makeup Remover, €11.69. For nighttime moisturising I use the same products as I use in the morning.

Because I am unlucky enough to have feet which resemble the Burren, I get a monthly Danne medi-pedi where the worst of the limetone layers are burnt off. Between burning sessions I use special cream called Calerase by Danne Monthague-King, €42. Finally, my desert-island product would be Espa’s 24-hour Skin Saviour. This is a thick unguent that you can use on chapped lips, cracked feet, dry hands, cuts, sunburn, windburn, just about anything you can think of, maybe even a broken heart. It’s reassuringly thick and it smells divine. I carry it with me like a security blanket. It costs a hefty €54, but I think it’s worth it.

So there you are — a gritty exposé of a day in the life of a make-up addict.

¦ The Mystery of Mercy Close, by Marian Keyes, Penguin, €14.99.