mays greece diary

I had been looking forward to this day for a while. About three months to be exact. Whenever I was cycling against the wind in the rain or looking for a taxi, I thought: soon I'll be lying in Greece on a soft bed in the sun, with my laptop on my lap. And that moment has now arrived.

We are of course a bunch of spoiled types, the kind that fashion or beauty journalists are called. But this trip, this is immediately marked with a thick Edding marker in the agenda. Want to know why? Well, it goes like this. It starts with those who invite us. Daphne Knijpinga and Jenny Cheung, two women so pleasant that you would want to hire them occasionally. To laugh with, to talk about this and that, and sure, to maybe have a glass of wine and exchange some beauty tips.

Daphne and Jenny work for Coty, a.k.a. the cosmetics heaven. Marc Jacobs perfumes, Gucci, Calvin Klein, Sun by Jil Sander, and everything from that delicious Lancaster. Our task is to test those Lancaster products. And there are quite a few, so we have it tough. What do we have to review? For example, there’s the Sun Sport line that cools your skin, which you can apply on damp skin (ideal if you sweat a bit after your morning run or after your dive in the infinity pool). Or what do you think of the Sun Beauty Sublime Tan that protects against UV-A, UV-B, and visible light? And infrared, because UV-A and UV-B only cover ten percent of the sun spectrum, just so you know. Initially, this technology could only be produced at high factor, but now the high gentlemen of the laboratory have managed to incorporate this technique into factor 15 or 30. Another tip from Jenny and Daphne: store your products in the fridge. It’s not necessary, but it’s nice and refreshing on your skin. Just so you know II.

So that’s what we do. In a five-star resort (Sani Beach in Thessaloniki; a recommendation, rarely met such nice people) and occasionally my industry friend Esther Goedegebuure (the editor-in-chief of JAN) and I look at each other. A slightly raised eyebrow is the sign for a glass. And then we don’t care that we are surrounded by a healthy posse. To quote Esther: “We don’t judge you for drinking diet cola and beet juice, so just let us have our wine.”

We also occasionally attempt to get into the Guinness Book of Records by cramming ourselves into a golf cart with fifteen people and having the highest concentration of heaters per square meter to warm up a rather cold terrace. And the earth. Sorry, Al Gore. Today we are going to sit inside.