“If I wasn’t in the electronics industry, I’d be in the beauty business,” Lord Sugar tells the candidates this week. And while it’s probably too late for a man with creases that deep to benefit from a facial, it’s the “massive, massive margins” he’s really interested in.
Sounds like setting up their own beauty treatment service will be a chance for the candidates to bring in some serious cash, then…?
Among the wacky products on offer are a chocolate facial treatment (it tones the muscles and smooths the skin as you struggle to lick your own face) a Make Your Own Egyptian Mummy kit and a range of “discreet male cosmetics” designed for people like Leon, who is petrified of being caught doing anything vaguely effeminate (but who is, at the same time, appreciably camp).
Logic get hot shells for your back; Venture get cold stones for your feet. Both teams want the head-to-toe spray tan system but Susie’s near-manic enthusiasm – she sells beauty products for a living you know – wins it for Venture.
Presumably still buzzing from closing the deal, Susie becomes slightly obsessed with fake tanning products. She reckons she can sell 900 bazillion bottles of tinted skin cream in a day, no problem. Unfortunately, she is just high on spray tan fumes, and her plan to paint the town orange is just a dream.
Tom’s worry that Logic might struggle to entice people into a third-floor broom cupboard for a beauty treatment proves to be well founded. He’s sent downstairs to explain the situation to Felicity but becomes strangely fascinated by the unflattering head merkins the team are selling.
The clumps of clip-on hair are marketed as “Winges”, a portmanteau word cleverly created by combining “wig” with “fringe”. It sounds quite unappealing until you realise that the alternative is Frig.
In the boardroom, we learn that even Susie’s buying frenzy has not been enough to sabotage the power of the spray tan machine, and Logic PM Felicity finds herself taking the short taxi ride to the nearest bus stop.
Sorry Felicity, I know they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but you don’t have to be Lord Sugar to see that a £246 loss ain’t pretty.