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My hero product

Cold cream is my skincare secret: why nothing compares to the humble £3 cleanser

Buying it in the UK has become a challenge on a par with getting hold of a Birkin bag in the early Noughties, but it’s worth the graft, says Helen Coffey

Friday 21 August 2020 08:42 BST
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Pond's cold cream will always be my first love
Pond's cold cream will always be my first love

Utter the words “cold cream”, and for many it conjures up the image of a spartan 1940s beauty regime, as synonymous with the World War Two woman as eyeliner drawn up the backs of legs to create the illusion of nylons, or spicing up your hair with elaborate victory rolls.

How then did I, a 33-year-old woman in 2020, end up favouring a skincare product more closely associated with Vera Lynn than a bona fide millennial? To answer this question, first we must go back, back to a time when girls avidly read glossy magazines to tell them how to be better people.

A decade ago, a couple of friends and I passed around a copy of Glamour that claimed – and we’ll never know if it’s true, but I’ll always believe it is in my heart – that Kylie (Minogue, the original and the best) swore by Pond’s cold cream. It was her skincare “secret”, the product that meant she looked forever young. Perhaps believing it would also somehow bestow upon us her exquisitely pert bottom, we all bought a jar.

An emulsion cleanser that’s been around for millennia and can be used for everything from make-up removal to leg shaving, cold cream combines water, oil, emulsifier and a thickening agent to gently cleanse skin without stripping away moisture.

Now, when I bought my first tub, there was no “aha” moment – I can’t remember what I thought of it, to be honest. I was 20 at the time, and therefore there was no real need for adequate skincare. On the rare occasions I wasn’t hungover I glowed with the unfair bloom of youth, and happily assumed that that would always be the case. Ha!

But it made enough of an impression that when, years later, I got a facial at a fancy spa, it popped into my head again. It was at that point after a treatment when the therapist tries to sell you some face cream that will “change your life” – and they’re right, in a way, because my life would certainly change if I started buying skincare products for a few hundred pounds a pop. I wouldn’t be able to afford food, for a start.

I patiently explained to the woman that I was a journalist, and therefore it was best to cut the sales pitch short. But she did something no other facialist or masseuse had done before – she gave me some free advice. She asked about my regular skincare regime, openly cringing as I described using a foaming facewash before bed, chosen largely for its £1.99 price tag, followed by a bottom-shelf moisturiser “maybe, if I can be bothered/remember”.

This angel woman, out of the kindness of her heart (or perhaps she just felt sorry for my pores) bestowed upon me the best tip I’ve ever had. “Using an aggressive facewash that claims to get rid of spots actually often strips your skin of its natural oils,” she told me. “Your skin then overcompensates, producing even more oil than it would normally. Go for something like a cream cleanser instead.”

Wait, I know a cream cleanser!, I thought. And it’s Kylie approved…

I picked up a jar of Pond’s cold cream, retailing at a pretty reasonable £3.25 – and I’ve never looked back. My skin isn’t terrible, but I’ve always struggled with regular breakouts since adolescence around my T-zone: forehead, nose and chin. Not anymore. Not with cold cream. I smoothed it over my face every night and removed it with a cotton pad: within a fortnight I was spot-free; my skin had a softness and freshness that I’d never experienced.

Within a fortnight I was spot-free; my skin had a softness and freshness that I’d never experienced

Perhaps its efficacy isn’t that surprising, given they’ve had thousands of years to perfect the formula. Despite its resurgence at the beginning of World War Two, cold cream came on the scene much, much earlier. In fact, its invention is credited to Galen, a physician in second century Greece, and variations have been used ever since. Obviously it’s evolved a whole lot since then, but the basic idea of an emulsion of water and certain fats has remained the same.

Pond’s, undoubtedly the most famous producer of cold cream and the world’s first real skincare brand, launched its iconic version in 1914, and it’s still going to this day. Or at least it was.

Pond’s Cold Cream Cleanser, £3.25, Boots

In the first few months of 2020 – before the global pandemic saw my skincare woes rightfully banished to the back burner – I started noticing a trend. I would nip into Boots, search for my beloved Pond’s pot with its baby-pink lid, and find an empty space on the shelf instead. The label would be there alright, but it would say the product was “temporarily out of stock”. But after weeks of searching in pharmacies all across London, I came to the conclusion that maybe it wasn’t “temporary” after all.

No matter, I thought, we live in the age of the internet, where anything and everything can be purchased at the click of a button. Not long before lockdown, I figured I would get prepared and order in bulk. My lone attempt to dip a toe into the shady world of stockpiling did not go well. Because what do you know – it seems cold cream is the one product you can’t buy seamlessly online in the UK. I hunted high and low, only to be thwarted at every turn. I got so excited about seeing it in stock on one site I ordered seven jars – only for it to turn out to be Pond’s anti-wrinkle moisturiser when they arrived. I hadn’t read the product description properly after clicking through multiple links and ending up on a random Spanish beauty site.

But I still couldn’t give up: I was a woman possessed. The dream of good skin will do that to a person. I did something I have never done in my life – I wrote to Pond’s head office, to Boots, to Unilever (which now owns the brand). I begged, I pleaded, I hurled myself on their mercy. I tried to appeal to their vanity, penning flattering phrases such as “It’s my skincare staple!”, “I never use anything else!!!” and “PLEASE HELP ME”, to no avail.

“Thank you so much for getting in touch with us about the availability of Pond’s Cold Cream, it’s great to hear that you’re so keen to buy it,” wrote Karen from Unilever, in what I considered to be an unnecessarily passive-aggressive tone. “Unfortunately, however, none of the major retailers are currently stocking it.”

Rachel from Boots seemed more understanding of my plight, but the answer was the same.

“Thanks for getting in contact about Pond’s Cold Cream. I am sorry to hear that you have been unable to find this in your local store recently.

“We are constantly reviewing the products that we sell, and this product has not been selling as well as expected for some time now. Unfortunately I have to confirm that we have made the difficult decision to discontinue this product, to make way for new ranges.”

She didn’t say “this product has not been selling as well as expected since the 1940s”, but I got the gist. It turns out I really am one of the only millennial women to currently favour a WWII skincare regime. But, for now, I remain stubbornly optimistic. Cold cream has been going strong for almost 2,000 years; its popularity may have ebbed and flowed through the ages, but it has never disappeared, and it’s not about to start now.

In the meantime, I’ve had to adapt. After much rigorous research, the most similar product I could find was L’Oreal Fine Flowers Cleansing Cream, a creamy yet light cleansing balm that removes make-up without drying out skin. It’s a great find and, at £7.99 for a giant 200ml tub that I've used just half of in six months, it’s solid value too. But, to me, it will always be second best.

So here’s to you, cold cream – and Kylie – the ultimate comeback queens. Let’s hope you come back soon.

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