An Ode To Marc Jacobs’ Magical Concealer

I’m a simple woman. Not Marie Kondo-level simpleI buy stuff, I collect things, I have more jeans than days in the monthbut I am a woman who appreciates the beauty in simplicity, the art of doing less. Especially when it comes to my beauty routine. And so, I love the widely adopted sentiment that skincare is the new makeup; it feels preventative and intuitive, celebratory even of our natural beauty. But, admittedly, it’s daunting. For those of us who are still very much on the journey to ~perfect~ skin, it’s not as simple to embrace a natural, makeup-free face, let alone wear it to work every day.


I never leave the house completely barefaced. I’ll brush my brows, swipe some gloss on my lips, and cover up any imperfections the day has thrown at me. For bouts of hormonal acne, the resulting scarring, and hyperpigmentation, I live, and I mean L-I-V-E, for a good concealer.


I was formerly of the Nars radiant creamy cult until three years ago when a friend introduced me to Clé de Peau Beauté Concealer. One dab of the chalky stick and six hours later in a sweaty club, my cover-up was still perfectly in place. I was hooked, even at 70$ a pop. My trusty CdP has followed me across oceans and gotten me through breakups; it’s been there through summer tans and the palest of winter skins. Seriously, I swore by this shit.


That is, until I read this Into the Gloss review from Emily Ferber, where she references CdP (and all its wonders), and then goes on to say that Marc Jacobs’ Accomplice Concealer & Touch-Up Stick has replaced it. A statement so bold is probably the only thing that would encourage me to try something new. So I did.  



Accomplice Concealer & Touchup Stick



After testing like five different shades to find my perfect match, I went with Medium 30, a shade described as ‘medium with neutral undertones.’ The next morning, following skincare and SPF, I went for it. I used it all over (as per Emily’s suggestion): a few stripes around the corners of my nose, my chin, and on spots, blending with clean fingers. It went on smooth and creamy, but not greasy and opaque, but not matte—it was like my own skin, just better. Could it be I’d found the one?


I’m sorry, Clé de Peau. It’s not you, it’s me. Or maybe it is you. But it’s time to see other people.

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