I look like an ugly potato without my slap, no way would I go makeup free like Pamela Anderson, says Vanessa Feltz

THERE are not many women who can pull off wearing not a scintilla of make-up on a Hollywood red carpet, but Pamela Anderson is one of them.

The former Baywatch star went with minimal touching up at this week’s Golden Globes and looked amazing.

Good for her.

If I looked like Pamela, I might not wear make-up, either.

But if you’re not born a bobby-dazzler like her, why would you have the bare-faced audacity to go make-up free?

Most women think they look better with make-up, and I certainly wouldn’t sign up to a movement that makes women feel guilty for using cosmetics. That’s much too dictatorial.

It’s as if you are saying: “If you wear foundation and lipstick you’re superficial, you’re fake.”

I am horrified at the idea of make-up shaming.

I don’t want men, or other women for that matter, to start judging women for wearing make-up. There shouldn’t be pressure one way or another.

Those pictures of Pamela Anderson brought back some miserable memories for me.

A few years ago, BBC Radio 2 organised a publicity photoshoot for some of their presenters and I was invited to take part. To my amazement, the photographer was Bryan Adams, the pop star.

He had a very impressive studio, which was part of his posh home in Knightsbridge, central London.

I just pitched up, as instructed.

But when I arrived, I was told that for this shoot Bryan wanted a no-make-up look.

“OK, don’t panic,” I thought.

He probably means make-up that looks like no make-up — so lots of foundation, some powder, some contouring, a very light rim on the inside of the eye and neutral lipstick.

I thought I would be fully made up to look my best but as if I wasn’t wearing any make-up, and I was happy with that.

But I was wrong. I soon found out that Bryan was passionately attached to the no-make-up look, to the point where he had some really sergeant major-ish person who, on his instructions, scrubbed any vestige of make-up off our faces.

You weren’t allowed anything — not even a tiny bit of mascara from the day before.

I said to this person: “Please show me some mercy — don’t be so punctilious. At least let me wear some lip liner, for God’s sake.”

The answer was no. That’s not the way Bryan wants to work today.

So my face was scrubbed like a Sunday roast tin. It looked like a great, big featureless potato — round and shiny, with no eyes or mouth.

I looked around at the other women — Mel Sykes, Zoe Ball, Sara Cox and Claudia Winkleman. All have been significantly endowed with a beauty that has eluded me.

Without make-up they looked a bit California girl, sun-kissed. They were able to smoulder convincingly and looked drop-dead gorgeous.

But when it was my turn to be photographed, I didn’t think I looked pretty enough to do that. So I just gave a big shrug. It was like: “Don’t worry, I realise I don’t look nice. I’m playing this for laughs.”

But, you know, it wasn’t just me. I think everyone looked miserable. Wearing no make-up didn’t make me feel empowered, it was the opposite.

My confidence evaporated. I felt ugly, self-conscious. I thought: “Why have you done this to me? Why should I have to go through this?”

I did not feel that Bryan Adams had liberated me from the imprisonment of make-up.

Confidence evaporated

I thought: “You have stripped me of my armour. You’ve forced me to look a way I don’t want to appear.”

There’s this idea that you’ll be more authentic if you don’t wear make-up. For me, the opposite is true. I’m the same person — I just feel more confident, more attractive and more like myself with it on.

I don’t know why Bryan wanted to do it. I felt terrible on the way home. I had been made to look the worst I could and then photographed.

Pamela Anderson is gorgeous and a natural beauty. I have no feelings on whether she should or shouldn’t wear make-up.

But personally, I would like to take advantage of make-up and what it can do without being made to feel it’s stupid or frivolous.

Make-up was invented by the Egyptians, thousands of years ago. They saw it as a source of power and they were right.

Make-up containers have even been found in the tombs of ancient Egyptians, to take with them to the afterlife.

That is how important make-up is.

My two glamorous grandmothers, Babs and Sybil, were the kind of grandmas who never went grey.

L’Oreal hair dye was more important to them than food.

The people who never get the attention they deserve are the make-up people

Vanessa Feltz

Their view was you should never relax your standards. When they went to the shops, they always put lipstick on and carried a compact so they could powder their noses.

I agree with that philosophy. A bright face and you feel better about life.

And sometimes, you really need it.

Take earlier this week. I was appearing on This Morning and was driven to the studios on a limo bike.

It was raining, so imagine what I looked like when I got there.

My hair was all lank after being squashed by the helmet and my face was rain-lashed.

I was not looking my sizzling-hot best.

Of all the people in the television industry — and I’ve been in it for more than 30 years — the people who never get the attention they deserve are the make-up people.

They give you the confidence to make you think you’re putting your best face forward.

So the other day I said to them, as usual: “I’m throwing myself at your mercy.”

Fifteen minutes later, I looked like a different person.

After having my make-up done, I can wiggle on to the TV feeling like I can give my best performance.

Caught off guard

To me, make-up is good for morale. In lockdown, for example, you could slouch around in your trackie, scrunchie on head.

Did most people feel liberated? Not really. It was demoralising. Putting on your make-up is part of assembling yourself to face the world.

You see women in hospitals putting make-up on largely for themselves, showing their best self, rather than their worst self.

I was rushed to hospital a few months ago with a kidney stone. It’s true what they say — it’s more painful than childbirth.

The next day, after surgery, I posted on Instagram from my hospital bed, looking hellish. Because I’d been rushed in, I’d been caught off guard and didn’t have any make-up on me. But the day after that, I put make-up on and it made me feel a bit better.

In a recession or a cost-of- living crisis, we know sales of lipstick go up. You feel a bit better when you look a bit better.

I wonder if The Sun might offer me a tidy fee to pose for a no-make-up shoot for the paper.

I’m waiting for the call and you’ll be relieved to know that if they do, I will turn them down, because I love Sun readers and I wouldn’t want to subject you to that.