Which Primer Is Worth the Time?

Texan that I am, I started wearing makeup before most East Coast adolescents began dreaming of the Ivy League. But despite all my childhood trips to the Neiman’s cosmetics counter, I’ve always stuck to the basics: tinted moisturizer, concealer for my prison-camp under-eye circles, on special occasions some blush.

So when the high-school friend who did my makeup for prom, my wedding, and sundry smaller occasions in between told me I absolutely had to start using primer, I was skeptical. Primers, which allegedly “prime” the skin for makeup, were now sold by almost every major makeup line. They’re not a moisturizer, not a foundation, but a stepping-stone in between.

But are primers really essential for those of us who don’t strut the catwalk for a living? If not replace foundation, then what exactly does a primer do? Marketing materials have alluring, but unconvincing, answers: Primer is supposed to make foundation last longer, but that’s not all. It also “creates a perfect canvas for foundation application” and “acts as an invisible barrier between skin and makeup.” Um … OK?

My visiting mother was likewise confused. Since she—also a Texan—is the reason I wear makeup in the first place, I counted on her to provide useful insights on the dozen-some primers that soon crowded my over-the-toilet cabinet. As she stepped inside the bathroom, I repeated the instructions I’d read in so many package inserts: “After you moisturize, you put on a little primer. Let it set, then apply makeup as usual.”

Ninety seconds later, my mother emerged with a bottle of primer in each hand. “I don’t understand,” she said. “I put this on instead of moisturizer?” I shook my head. “No, Mom, after. It’s like a pre-makeup makeup.” The door shut again. Seconds later, reopened. “So now I have to put three different things on my face, every morning?” I nodded. “Isn’t that a lot of trouble?”

I cannot say that I disagreed, especially early on.

The Testing

Over the last month, I tested a huge variety of primers with the help of two friends, both self-described “product people” with normal skin and abnormally long work days. We wore each primer under consideration for at least three days.

There are two main types of primers: Silicone-based gels and shimmery lotions that go on sheer and behave suspiciously like regular moisturizers. In general, the silicone formulas fared much better in our trials. Which is good news, since silicone seems to be a fairly safe substance to spread over your face. I looked up three of the silicone derivatives most commonly listed at the top of these primers’ ingredient lists—cyclomethicone [2], dimethicone crosspolymer [3], and cetyl dimethicone [4]—and was pleased to find all received “low hazard” rankings from the Environmental Working Group’s usually alarmist Cosmetics Database. Of course, almost all of these products also contain highly toxic preservatives like methyl paraben and propylene glycol, which—despite all the horrendous, hormone-disrupting things we know about them—appear in most other conventional cosmetics as well.

To start, here are the products that aren’t quite ready for prime time.

THE LOSERS …

Fresh Rose Primer [5], $36

This primer is distinctly underwhelming: pretty much a glorified moisturizer, but in a smaller container and without the SPF. It did nothing to change the texture of our skin, and the fragrance wasn’t even that delightful.

Laura Mercier Foundation Primer [6], $30

“I tried this one a number of times before realizing that the emperor has no clothes,” said one tester. I—generally a Laura Mercier loyalist—seconded the emotion: This primer felt like just another layer of chemicals going on my face. One tester said that while there was nothing particularly objectionable about this product, there was nothing exceptional, either.

Benefit Cosmetics “That Gal” Brightening Facial Primer [7], $28

We loved the packaging but thought “That Gal” looked like calamine lotion and smelled like Bubblicious—not exactly a winning combo. This pink-tinted primer can be used to brighten the face throughout the day, but why not just use blush?

And now for the products that made me reconsider my initial scorn for these new-fangled products.

THE WINNERS …

Smashbox Photo Finish Primer [8], $36

This cult product comes in seven varieties: In addition to the original Photo Finish, there’s one for oily skin, one for bronzing, one with sun protection, plus three “color correcting” formulas (green for “adjusting color,” apricot for “blending” color, and purple for “balancing” color). While we had trouble making sense of these Edward Scissorhands-ian color correctors, we all loved the classic Photo Finish. “It has a great texture and feels really silky,” one tester said. “I can’t say I believe it helps the makeup last any longer, but I do think that the makeup goes on smoother.” We were less enthusiastic about the oil-free version, which didn’t blend as well with makeup. (We had a similar issue with the Bare Escentuals Prime Time [9] product we tested: The regular version was great; the oil-free formula [10] caused makeup and moisturizer to pill.)

Philosophy The Present Clear Makeup [11], $25

I’m not sure I really buy the whole “clear makeup” concept: For evening out skin tone and covering under-eye circles and so forth, this thick white (but colorless, ergo “clear”) lotion is no substitute for good old-fashioned spackle. But The Present is still a pretty wonderful product. It requires a setting time of at least two minutes, which testers found annoying (“As if I really have two minutes to spare before work!”). But we all agreed it was worth the wait. “Even when I was washing my face at night,” the same tester said, “my skin just felt so soft.”

Pixi Brightening Primer [12], $33

Though unimpressed with the ridiculous marketing claims made about this primer—namely, that it’s “infused with pure pearl powder” and “3-D holographic pigments”—we all really liked this contender, which is sold at Target (though at a very un-Target-like price). Like the other silicone-based formulas we tried, it did a good job of smoothing out the skin and even conferred a nice, if nonholographic, glow.

Giorgio Armani Light Master Primer [13], $55

Is it a coincidence that my favorite primer is also far and away the most expensive? Unlike the other winning primers, the Armani doesn’t stand out for its skin-smoothing properties: Our faces felt little different pre- and post-application. But the Armani primer really did a remarkable job of lightening my under-eye circles. For the first time since junior high, I could walk around concealer-free without looking as if I’d just returned from a long stay at Dr. Caligari’s. Not exactly in the primer job description, but I’ll take it.

The Verdict

So are primers worth the extra expense and hassle (not to mention chemical exposure)? I put this question to a professional, makeup artist Joanna Stewart [14], who seemed to share my cautious enthusiasm. “For some people,” she said, “primer might help foundation stay in place more evenly, or for a longer time. It can definitely create a smoother appearance, or camouflage trouble spots. But,” she went on, “it entirely depends on what that person’s skin type is like to begin with. If it works for you, great; if not, skip it.”

“For real women wearing makeup,” she concluded, “I generally wouldn't recommend using more product than necessary, so probably no primer.” So does she or does she not use primer on her own face? “Every single day,” Stewart admitted. “I am totally crazy about the Armani one because it’s so light-reflective—it helps conceal my very, very dark under-eye circles.” Precisément my reaction!

Still, I’m not sure I’ll replenish my primer supply once the current batch runs out—they’re expensive, and they don’t exactly simplify the morning routine. And I’m definitely not primer-mad enough to follow the advice of cost-conscious beauty junkies on the Internet, who swear that Monistat Anti-Chafing Gel [15] primes the face as well as exponentially more expensive department-store products. (Sorry, but ew.) But I’m pleased that the black holes under my eyes are less pronounced than usual, and I know the Neiman’s ladies of my youth would be proud.