Writing a good beauty book is difficult. I’m very much in favour of talking about skincare, makeup, perfume and style in every possible medium, on every level of seriousness/lack of it. But I often feel it works better in magazines and on social media than it does in books. Even people I usually like seem to panic when they start writing a book and either just reproduce their blog/column/Youtube content with better pictures or overcompensate and try too hard to prove it’s a proper, worthy book. There is also the risk of sounding dated more-or-less immediately after one finishes writing.

What it means to me is that despite having a serious interest in almost every aspect of beauty, I hardly ever buy books on the subject (the upside of this is that as I buy enormous quantities of books already on almost every imaginable topic, any relief is welcome). There are a few exceptions, including Sali Hughes. My girl-crush on Sali is well documented and goes back years. Before there was #carolinehironsmademedoit, Sali Hughes made me do it – and she still does. I religiously read her Saturday column in The Guardian, although I miss the videos terribly, and often browse her beauty forum. Since my skin has become less dry, our preferences no longer overlap completely (she is very dry and dehydrated), but I always, always take her advice seriously.

I liked her first book, Pretty Honest, and wrote about it soon after it launched. While that was mostly a how-to book, the new Pretty Iconic focuses on products and their context. If you are like me and cannot resist reading an article on 12 Cult Classics You Need In Your Life even if you can predict with 97% accuracy what’s going to be featured, this is for you. The whole book is like the biggest, bestest list of iconic products ever and I guarantee there will be some surprises. It’s also a good mix of nostalgic classics, industry favourites, hugely popular products, innovative game-changers and future stars. This makes it an interesting read not only for beauty addicts, but for anyone who has ever used Impulse deodorant.

As an illustration of the contents of the book, I’ve gathered some products that are in it and that I currently own. There are more – I could not find my bottles of Shalimar, 4711 and L’Eau d’Hiver (I only have 5 ml of that), Effaclar Duo is somewhere safe because I don’t need it at the moment and I failed to notice at first that iSleek palettes, Seche Vite top-coat and Guerlain Meteorites were featured as well. And that’s only what I have in my stash this very moment, without the tubs and jars and flacons I’ve used in the past (and will potentially repurchase): from Benetint to Laura Mercier, from Elnett to Surf Spray, from Eve Lom Cleanser to Liquid Gold, from 8 Hour Cream to Zelens Triple Action Eye. It’s both the case that she has very much influenced the products I buy and that she knows so well what women today need and actually use.

I recommend not to read the book straight from start to finish*, but to dip in and out according to your interests. Sali (note how I use her first name as if we had cocktails every Friday – unfortunately, we don’t) is a skilled writer, combining facts, insight, humor and personal experiences into an easy-to-read mixture, but I assume she did not mean this to be read as a novel. Taken in appropriate doses, it’s a lovely and informative read that also feels intimate and authentic. The only serious complaint I have is that not every product has an illustration: in this type of a book I find it annoying.

The reason I appreciate Sali so much is not her knowledge (though impressive) or skill (already praised) or even her approach to beauty, although I love it. It’s that no matter how much I admire the big YouTube stars for their highlighter skills or young Instagrammers for their liner, they do not ultimately inspire me the same way she does. A woman who writes well, loves leopard print, has two kids, can do proper lipstick and wears both Chanel No 5 and Philosykos? Hell, yeah.

*If you’re a die-hard fan, you will anyway.