Beauty bible

Celia Walden plays misty

THE BEST THING about the naturist hotel I stayed at in my early 20s was the patio misting system. It was 38C in Santa Barbara and it turns out you can be too hot, even when starkers, so in the moments that weren’t spent cowering behind an oversized beach bag, I’d sit in a cloud of cool mist drinking home-made lemonade beside a naked accountant from Buckinghamshire.

Gordon and I agreed early on that were it possible to instal indoor misting systems, we’d both have them set up in our offices, where he could calculate people’s corporation tax and I could write columns in a gentle shower of alpine water. It wouldn’t matter that it wasn’t 38C in either Buckinghamshire or London: as winter sets in, the heating gets cranked up and your face starts cracking like an Old Master painting – you need all the hydration you can get. Not that you care much about hydrating your skin in your early 20s, but the misting felt so good that from that curious holiday onwards, whether abroad or in Blighty, I would carry a tiny Evian facial spray with me at all times.

I still have one on my desk now, but it ’s hidden behind a plethora of more sophisticated facial mists – mists that don’t just hydrate and refresh but prep and prime you for make-up, soothe, moisturise, mineralise and come infused with SPF, depending on what you need. So you could say I have developed my own indoor misting system. Gordon, wherever you are: take note.