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, dimethicone crosspolymer, and cetyl dimethicone—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, $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.