Showing posts with label tin oxide. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tin oxide. Show all posts

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Stiff

The women of Roman Britain used a foundation made of animal fat, starch and tin oxide, said Pliny the Elder, this morning.

Well, I said. How come you didn't know that yesterday?

I did, said Pliny. I forgot.

That happens, I agreed. Foundation, you say? So it wasn't a lipstick.

No, said Pliny. It was a face whitener.

Then what's it doing in my shimmering brown Dangerous Diva?

Shimmering, said Pliny.

Was it poisonous? I asked.

I don't know, said Pliny, But I believe it used to set quite stiffly on their faces.

That would have been the starch. How is it we know what the ingredients were?

A little pot of grayish cream was dug up in south London, said Pliny. It had fingermarks on the lid, and in the cream. It dated back to the second century AD.

How did they know what it was for?

At first they thought it might be toothpaste, but....

But?

They analysed the ingredients and decided it must have been a facial cream. Either that or...

Yes?

A cream for smearing on to sacrificial goats.

Dangerous Diva

Pliny the Elder disagreed with me about crinolines being worn by fashionable ladies in pre-revolutionary France.

I believe you are wrong, he said.

Oh? I said. Why is that?

Because, he replied, crinolines were not invented until the 1830s. The skirts worn by ladies in pre-revolutionary France were padded out on the sides with panniers. I'm surprised you did not know that.

I did know that, I just forgot, I said. I'm surprised that you knew it, though.

You forget, said Pliny, that I take an interest in everything.

I do forget that, sometimes, I agreed. But since you do take an interest in everything, what do you know of the ingredients used in ladies' lipsticks?

Do you have a particular reason for asking? asked Pliny.

I do, I said. I am wondering whether tin oxide is a proper ingredient in a lipstick.

Offhand, said Pliny, I do not know, but it sounds quite a dangerous substance to be painting on one's lips .

That's what I thought, I said, when I read the ingredients of my new lipstick this morning. The last ingredient was tin oxide.

Let us try and find out more, said Pliny, helpfully. Now, I believe ladies' lipsticks have names. What is the name of yours?

Dangerous Diva, I replied.

Pliny seemed about to say something, but, uncharacteristically, held it back.