FAKE IT TILL YOU BREAK OUT
Why that “bargain” mascara might contain meerkat wee, mystery glitter and enough lead to sink a canoe. Step away from the TikTok serum before your face sues for assault.
Last Saturday, as Mrs G was getting ready for a casual lunch. The sort where I wear a hoodie and she dresses like she’s about to present Eurovision; I made the mistake of glancing at my watch.
“Nearly ready?” I asked, as politely as someone can when they’ve been stood by the door long enough to need another shave!
She turned slowly, with one eyebrow half-drawn, face contorted mid-contour and let out a shriek that could summon dolphins from the Atlantic. “This isn’t my Charlotte Tilbury!” she wailed, examining a lipstick like it had just bitten her.
Turns out she’d bought it online from someone claiming to be an “authentic reseller”. A phrase I now realise, that roughly translates to “bloke flogging toxic crayons from a shipping container in Milton Keynes.”
This isn’t a one-off. Mrs G, like many people insists everything that goes on her face is organic, natural and ethically hand-squeezed from Himalayan herbs that have been sung lullabies by monks. But that all goes out the window when she spots a half-price serum that promises to reverse ageing and clean the bathroom grout.
I wasn’t remotely surprised to read that 67% of cosmetics sold on online marketplaces are fake. According to the folk at Which?, counterfeit beauty products are so rife they’re basically a separate economy. One where your foundation might contain arsenic, your eyeliner could be laced with crushed beetle shells and your anti-ageing cream smells suspiciously like hamster urine.
The investigation found knock-off products being sold on Amazon, eBay, TikTok Shop and, rather bizarrely Vinted, a site that was originally meant for selling second-hand cardigans, not counterfeit moisturiser that gives you third-degree chemical burns.
This isn’t like accidentally buying a fake Rolex in Turkey where the only injury is to your ego. No, these fake beauty products are genuinely dangerous. Some contain lead, mercury, faeces…. yes actual faeces and, in one unforgettable case, an ingredient charmingly labelled glowium nitrate. I looked it up. It doesn’t exist. But if it did, I imagine it would be made from radioactive fairy dust and powdered road sweepings.
It’s no wonder so many of these bargain beauty buys result in allergic reactions, weird rashes or looking like you’ve been in a punch-up with a wasp. Your skincare routine shouldn’t require a Hazmat suit or an antihistamine chaser.
Yet these online sellers always try to pass them off with packaging that’s “close enough”. The fonts are almost right. The shade names are just one vowel off. You think you’re buying “MAC Ruby Woo” and end up with “MOC Rubi Whee”. Close enough for someone squinting at midnight, half-asleep and three glasses into a Sauvignon-fuelled shopping spree.
I’ve even seen products claiming to contain rejuvenating extracts of Albino Gecko bile, infused with “Egyptian Moonlight” and preserved in something called anti-oxidibomb; which I assume is what happens when Gwyneth Paltrow names things after having a migraine.
But let’s not just blame the shady sellers. Our Government, that merry band of spreadsheet jugglers and ceremonial ribbon-cutters; is also asleep at the mascara-stained wheel. Consumer protections are flimsier than my patience during “quick” trips to Home Bargains. There’s no effective regulation of third-party platforms, no enforcement of safety standards and zero consequences unless you grow a second nose or develop eyebrows that glow in the dark.
The solution? Stop buying cosmetics from people who sell hair dye next to discount dog food and believe ‘dermatologically tested’ just means Dave from Reddit tried it once and didn’t immediately explode.
Go to a real shop. One with lights. One where the products don’t come with free tetanus. One where your eyeliner won’t later be identified on BBC News as part of a police sting.
Yes, it might cost more. Yes, it might not arrive next-day in a jiffy bag that smells like WD-40. But trust me; your face deserves better than mystery goo made from camel spit and expired glitter.
So if your lipstick glows, fizzes or smells like mouldy quinoa, don’t assume it’s the latest innovation. It’s probably just radioactive landfill in a tube.
Buy smart. Or risk looking like an extra from Chernobyl: The Musical.
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Chris Geiger, Author of The Cancer Survivors Club.
Daily Dose of Disbelief!
Bsky: @chrisgeiger.com
Bsky: @thecancersurvivorsclub.com
Bsky: @dailydoseofdisbelief.com
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