Cost of living crisis? At least buying make up makes us feel better

The Herald Scotland

12-06-2025

The majority of my 30 years have been spent poring over the lotions and potions that will ensure my eight-pound skin sack has the best time on this little blue rock. Not because being blemish-free, dewy, radiant and taut is the only way to matter in this world. But because the fountain of youth implies an endless flow of time.
'Traditionally, skin care represents an attempt to deny the inevitability of the future,' Jia Tolentino wrote in her 2017 essay for the New Yorker. 'For me, right now, it functions as part of a basic dream in which the future simply exists.'
Read more House hunters are flocking to this previously unfashionable Scottish commuter town
'Death by a thousand cuts': Cluttered Edinburgh streetscapes threaten heritage status
Build skyscrapers as tall as you want, just please stop building eyesores
Would you ask ChatGPT for dating advice? I did. Here is what it said
I might never be able to afford property, and even if I did, there's every chance some climate change-derived natural disaster will just destroy it anyway, assuming the boys in charge haven't nuked us all yet. I wince at the cost of electricity, broadband and the weekly food shop. Don't even get me started on the price of a pint of Tennent's these days. But £40 for a tiny tub of cream to slather on my face? I wouldn't bat an eyelid. A pencil to define some part of my facial anatomy for £25? Sold.
It used to be called the Lipstick Index. In the early 2000s, Leonard Lauder (then chairman) of Estée Lauder, noticed that sales of the brand's lipstick spiked after 9/11 and the 2001 recession. The head of the beauty behemoth put it down to consumers seeking comfort in small luxuries during tough times. This recession indicator has morphed over the last 24 years as consumer habits change. But I still think it rings true that for many, indulging in skincare and beauty during tough financial times is one of those small kindnesses you allow yourself when your pay check drops at the end of the month.
Over the past year, Glasgow has been at the forefront of a surge of store expansions in the health and beauty sector, indicating others like me might feel the same about spending on these little luxuries. NARS is the latest retailer to open a flagship on Buchanan Street, following MAC Cosmetics and Charlotte Tilbury. Space NK has expanded its shop in Princes Square. In 2024, health and beauty spend was up 8% across the 100+ UK shopping centres Savills manages. In 2025, spending on pharmacy, health and beauty had its strongest growth in almost three years, according to Barclaycard Spend data, rising by 10.7% in January.
I don't agree with the narrative that taking an interest in make up and skincare is vapid. Your skin is the largest organ in your body, and it does deserve love, even if that just means slathering on some SPF in the morning. But more than that, taking care of one's appearance is not a bad thing (and means something different to everyone). For me, it just involves the generic trappings of millennial womanhood.
I've learned a lot about chemistry in the pursuit of perfect skin. Applying various serums, creams, essences, and gels each morning and night makes me feel like a mad scientist. And there's an art to it all as well.
H Beauty in Glasgow's Silverburn shopping centre (Image: free) I must have more paint brushes than Picasso, I think, as I swirl each one across my cheeks, forehead, and chin in various stages of blending and colouring before heading into the office. Those nifty pencils that cost more than a main dish at The Ivy are next, tracing and highlighting features to make them 'pop'. The ritual is my form of mindfulness and meditation. A little mask to protect me from the world. I realise it's a little ridiculous, and I am by no means very good at applying make up. But it does brighten up my mood most of the time.
Inside the new H Beauty shop, by far the most impressive retail space for beauty in the city at the moment, rows of light pink and chrome shelves are lit like altars. I'm giddy with excitement, navigating the seemingly endless product displays, dabbing various concoctions on the backs of my hands and sniffing perfumes until my septum burns. Sucked in by the allure of buying a lipstick, I let an ethereal blonde sales assistant help me find the perfect shade of glowy lip oil.
This, I think, will be the perfect little treat. I smack my pout together, neatly coated in an oily mahogany sheen. I'm gearing up to swipe my card, palms sweaty, until I realise this beautiful 6mL filled with all that dazzling shine is actually £33. I sadly shake my head and sulk away. Not in this economy. I'll be back when I'm ready to allow a big kindness for myself.
Marissa MacWhirter is a columnist and feature writer at The Herald, and the editor of The Glasgow Wrap. The newsletter is curated between 5-7am each morning, bringing the best of local news to your inbox each morning without ads, clickbait, or hyperbole. Oh, and it's free. She can be found on X @marissaamayy1