I have given out about dry shampoos in the past, and I did find one that I liked, although it did claim to be a ‘dry cleansing spray’, which: what? I don’t know, is ‘dry shampoo’ too plebe-y a term?

I got a sample of Batiste Dry Shampoo Original from Aldi (€2.39) just before I left on the Big Easter Getaway Down The Country, and as I reckoned that the hair would not be undergoing its usual grooming regimen for a couple of days, well, why not give this a go?

I’d recommend getting to Aldi sharpish, because I may go and spend a whole buncha money buying this stuff up.

What I disliked about the other dry shampoos that I have tested is their penchant to turn the hair into a bale of hay. Sure, the oil at the roots is totally gone, but at the expense of manageability, much less looking like you’ve just stuck your whole hand in an electrical socket. I suppose if it had occurred to me at such times, I could have attempted a beehive, since my hair was all volumised and massive… but what if you just want your own hair, only less limp and lifeless?

Then, my friends, you turn to Batiste. I sprayed it on, finger-combed it through, let it dry for a second or two… then combed it out… and, holy wow, my hair felt light and clean — and it looked shiny.

I was absolutely not expecting the shine. Also, it was soft, which I would have thought was a fairy tale. Or an outright lie. But nope: shiny and soft hair from a dry shampoo, and I lived happily ever after for two days.

Two days! And the thing is! After the Big Easter Hill Walk, and then getting soaked, even though my hair was in a pony tail and I was wearing a hat and a hood {Irish rain, eh?} my hair got damp. And even though I dried it a bit by the fire, it didn’t really get all the way dry. So when I twisted it into a random knot on the top of head, for sleeping, I wasn’t expecting a good result the next day, Miracle of Batiste or no.

Well. I gave the hair a spray in the a.m. and it looked wavy and full and really, really good. I can’t believe I didn’t take a photo, for proof, but hand on heart, even after all its trials and tribulations, another spritz of Batiste made me look 100% Country Girl Chic.

This also comes in Tropical and Blush, neither of which would appeal to me {what does a blush smell like? Shame?} I found the Original version to be perfectly scented, which is ‘only just’. Funny, you’d think that given my fragrance fetish I’d want hair that wafted scent, but: no. I am perfectly delighted and satisfied with the original version, so I’ll leave those others  for the rest of yees.