“Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony,” said Morpheus and he was right, I can tell you. I used to be the girl who thought that taking make-up off in the evening is for wussies: cool people fall straight to bed, drunk, and smear their fuchsia lipstick all over the bed linen.

Well, what do you know, I subscribe to this view no longer. Partly because the occasions when I arrive home at 3AM with fuchsia lipstick on have drastically decreased. But partly also because I’ve realised that it genuinely feels better (and looks better, later) to go to bed with clean skin. So now I’m of course obsessed, because just changing my mind in a reasonable, moderate way would be too … reasonable: I have become one of those people who have a “cleanser wardrobe”. I can feel my Teenage Self dying of embarrassment.

The reason for this wardrobe nonsense is that once you actually start paying proper attention, you realise that there are an enormous amount of options and one cleanser might not be enough, or at least not the best solution. Wipes are mostly horrible, eye make-up removers are not good for the entire face, micellar waters are nice and convenient, but don’t really take everything off, ditto face washes that can also be drying, oil can get into your eyes and do bad things to your contact lenses (and no, I cannot take them off first, because then I wouldn’t find my cleanser).

A couple of years ago, I converted to the hot cloth cleanse, thanks to the lovely and smart Sali Hughes. If you can at all be bothered, I highly recommend it. It works, your skin will look better, you will feel better and it doesn’t take that long, honest. I’m not going to get into details here, read Sali’s excellent instructions and join the cult. I mean, join the nice responsible people.

I recently also caved and bought a Clarisonic Aria and that works, too. I don’t use it every day, but it does make a difference when I do: everything seems extra polished and fresh and perky afterwards.

Still, regardless of my improved equipment and discipline, I’m sure I’ll always have days when I stay up too late reading or dancing or talking and simply refuse to go through with it all. There’s some comfort in that.

(And I will do a separate post on… erm… The Wardrobe, to remain in denial about how long I can go on about washing my face.)