This Multitasking French Moisturizer Makes My Makeup Work Better

Some people remember their travels with magnets or pins or home decor. My souvenir of choice: beauty products from every corner of the world.

I’ve brought home argan oil from Morocco, oud-heavy perfumes from the Middle East, sheet masks from Korea, and (not a dramatization) an entire suitcase’s worth of Ayurvedic skin favorites from India.

So when I went to France last summer, my first stop wasn’t a café or la tour Eiffel. It was a pharmacy, and I came armed with a list of dream serums, moisturizers, and thermal sprays. In the months since, I’ve liked most of what I purchased, but one product has stood out as the true hero of the haul: the cult-classic Embryolisse Lait-Crème Concentré (which also happens to be a pick from our guide to the best French pharmacy products).

This is marketed as a multitasking primer and cleansing milk. I think it works best as a hydrating, silky moisturizer.

My skin is croissant-flakey-level dry, so my pre-France routine consisted of perpetually slathering my face in oils at night and thick layers of moisturizer — either CeraVe’s Moisturizing Cream or Augustinus Bader’s The Rich Cream — in the daytime.

I love my Augustinus Bader and CeraVe creams, so I didn’t touch the Embryolisse moisturizer for almost a month after my purchase. How special could a simple moisturizer really be? The answer revealed itself to me with the first application. The texture is aggressively average, and that’s exactly where its prowess lies. It isn’t frosting-thick like CeraVe’s cream nor as liquidy (or expensive) as Augustinus Bader’s cream.

Despite its fairly light texture, Embryolisse moisturizer was able to turn my skin from dull to dewy in one pass. It was immediately hydrating and left behind a light and fresh sheen that made me look like I had just gotten a facial and nine hours of sleep. It didn’t feel oily, which is particularly impressive since I first tested it on a disgustingly humid July day in New York City.

Embryolisse moisturizer is also marketed as a makeup base, and this is my favorite way to use it. Long recommended by celebrity makeup artists as a primer for creating a smooth canvas, it’s especially effective on the under eyes, where I’ve found it to soften my fine lines. I’m particularly prone to under-eye creasing, and applying a pea-size amount of Embryolisse moisturizer 30 minutes before putting on concealer has noticeably improved the look and longevity.

It is, however, not one-size-fits-all. The moisturizer is made of hydrating staple ingredients like shea butter and aloe vera, both of which dermatologist Hadley King, MD, and French pharmacist and author of The French Skincare Bible Marine Vincent confirmed are excellent for dry skin but should be used in moderation by very oily or acne-prone skin types, since they can potentially aggravate breakouts. Same goes for the beeswax; it’s not inherently comedogenic, but its occlusivity can trap oils.

Embryolisse also says you can use its moisturizer as a cleansing milk in addition to everything else — and when I used it at night, it did remove a decent amount of waterproof mascara without irritating my eyes. But I woke up with smudges of mascara on my face. I also tried it as a cleanser in the morning and found it indulgent, but it didn’t give me that squeaky clean feeling I craved.

And really, that’s not why I gravitate to this moisturizer in the morning. It makes my skin look immediately better, and it plays nice with SPF and makeup. It is also decently priced and, as I would come to learn months after my return from France, readily available in the United States. It may be roughly $12 cheaper in France, but I’m willing to pay the markup to save me from begging friends to buy in bulk when they cross the pond.

For under $35, it solves many of my biggest skin insecurities: dullness, uneven texture, flakiness, and those persistent under-eye lines. And it just feels luxurious. It hydrates without heaviness, it cooperates under SPF and makeup, it softens the look of fine lines, and it’s extremely compatible with my chronic under-eye concealer creasing.

My future as a cool French girl lies several manifestations and roughly 3,600 miles away, but whenever someone compliments my skin, this petite beige tube means I get a little closer to living that dream. “Oh this?” I’ll say. “It’s just this cream I discovered in France.”

This article was edited by Hannah Rimm and Maxine Builder.