Mask Of Death

With the ever-growing world that now includes social influencers persuading our impressionable youth to purchase makeup that will turn them into Kate Moss, skin serum that will remove any and every blemish, shower scrub that promises a deliciously zesty feeling (whatever that may be) and all promising longer life. Mind you how Gwyneth Paltrow markets her candles – I dread to think. I’ve been sitting pondering how have we become a society of followers where social influencers have more control than parents – this is a fact I find quite worrying. Surely with all the merchandise on the market, manufacturers can’t justify any more products.

Watching the TV series ‘Secrets of the Royal Palaces’ last week, the subject was Elizabeth 1, a truly magnificent queen who reigned for 45 years, quite remarkable for those days. She genuinely believed that she needed to be in control of her image, to appear youthful, strong and healthy to enable continued respect. I love history and learning about the Tudors is fascinating, how King Louis X1V of France only took two baths in his lifetime whilst being described as ‘stinking like a wild animal’, although I’m pretty sure that’s an insult to animals. This era was pretty gross when it came to personal cleanliness and public health, to deal with the foul smells from all the human waste in the streets people would wear ‘nosebags’ filled with flowers and in 1858 London became known as the ‘Great Stink’ with the River Thames little more than an enormous sewer.

Lice ravished scalps and private parts, intestinal worms were rife. Urine was used to wash faces to help rid imperfections. Drinking liquid gold apparently made you look younger and a popular 16th century face mask was a mix of mercury and turpentine. Whilst arsenic, sulphide, eggs and lye would remove hair from legs and armpits, along with skin. Lice became constant companions, so to kill the little blighters, they would smear arsenic, quicksilver and butter onto the affected parts, probably killing their host in the process.

18th century women wearing enormous skirts often found it impossible to use the toilets, so it became socially acceptable to urinate on the floors. Not much seems to have changed. During Henry V111’s reign, a top job in his court was the ‘Groom of the Stool’ yes, I think you get the picture.

I digress, back to Elizabeth and I’m sure the image we all have of her is with white face and red lips – nearly dying from smallpox when younger left her with facial scars and an obsession to use makeup to cover the disfigurements. Her makeup contained white lead ore, vinegar, arsenic, hydroxide and carbonate, whilst mercury was used as a foundation, some used coal for eyeliner, cochineal (bug blood yuk) for lipstick. The damage caused by poison leaching into the skin doesn’t bear thinking about. Upon Elizabeth’s death it was found that an ‘inch’ of concealer was on her face.

So, perhaps in hindsight and knowing what we now know about Tudor beauty regimes, I should keep quiet.