There’s a particular pleasure in talking beauty with someone who really cares about the answers.

Someone who wants to get into the ingredients, question the promises and explain why a product deserves a place in your bathroom. Trinny Woodall is that person, with enough enthusiasm to make you look at your own hands with renewed interest.

I first met her four years ago in a hotel in Sydney. This time, we were settled on a couch at the back of the Trinny London pop-up in Paddington, my light pink top and her yellows making an accidental Battenberg pairing. I was (once again) a little in awe. Of her energy, certainly, but also the sheer attention she gives to things.

For someone with so much going on, she has a remarkable appetite for detail. Ask about a new launch and you’ll hear what bothered her enough to develop it, what she expects it to achieve and why she wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less.

“We do want it to do what it says it’s going to do,” she says frankly. 

A pretty reasonable expectation, if you ask me! Although anyone with a cupboard full of skincare that never quite delivered will know it’s a bloody expensive one to keep testing.

My interest in changing skin is somewhat conflicted; it’s personal as well as professional. Medically induced menopause arrived for me in my twenties, years before I’d even had a chance to think about it, let alone understand it. I told Trinny about the changes I’d noticed in my arms and hands, the firmness and texture, the unfamiliarity of seeing something different in a body part you’ve barely thought about before.

You can be grateful for your body and still miss how familiar it once felt. There should be room for both.

Trinny is very attentive to that feeling. While demonstrating the treatment, she casually compliments my hands; a small kindness when I’ve just been pointing out everything I’ve started to feel self-conscious about. And it captures something I really like about her: she can be thoroughly absorbed in the practical details, while still paying attention to the woman in front of her.

Those practical details include responsibility.

Her insistence on understanding what you’re doing extends to understanding what you’re buying. The percentage of an active ingredient and the percentage of a complex containing it can tell quite different stories, however impressive the number on the bottle might look.

“Let’s be candid. Let’s be transparent.”

Naturally, I was very happy to find we were on the same page.

It’s also where the beauty editor has a role (Yes, us!) The supposedly dying breed, still reading the fine print and asking one more question. Trinny spoke with real warmth about an editorial review of her recent release, the Fearless Skin Tint Drops. A UK writer had limited space and countless products she could have covered, but had chosen to devote those words to hers.

There’s something lovely about a founder still being so affected by that, in the days of viral Tiktok videos and chasing trends. We don’t always know whether the care behind our recommendations is noticed, so hearing that meant a great deal to me. A moment for all the beauty editors, please!

That shared interest in what makes beauty worthwhile also leaves room for the less glamorous, less sexy and sometimes awkward questions. Can you open the packaging easily? Is it comfortable to use? With reduced sensation in my hands from neuropathy, these things make a real difference to me (and anyone else that requires accessibility). Sometimes, you just need the lid to cooperate before you can have an opinion on anything inside it.

Trinny talks about wanting the packaging to be refillable and practical. They’re small considerations beside the excitement of a new formula, but it’s also telling: someone has thought about the person using this.

Perhaps that helps explain the warmth and affection surrounding her. At the Paddington pop-up, dedicated days and events for her ‘Trinny Tribe‘ drew queues around the block. She travels to Australia often and is so giving to the community. I’m constantly amazed not only by how much she fits in, but the attention she also gives within that time. It’s what leaves such a lasting impression.

Beauty asks us to pay a great deal of attention to ourselves. Our skin, our routines, the things we might like to change. There’s something really, really reassuring about feeling that the person making the products is paying just as much attention to us.

Trinny’s questions are good ones: does it work, have we explained it properly, and will it make a difference to the woman who takes it home?

I’d be very happy to see more of the industry asking them.