Sweet Sixteen: Lush’s Karma Line

When I first received Lush’s Karma perfume, several years ago, it came in a kind of… well there’s no way to say it nicely. The bottle was ugly. It was squat, the label was unappealing, and its presentation was very, very ‘meh’. I gave it a cursory spritz, somewhere around my breastbone, and promptly fell in love. Continue reading

OMGifting: It is Almost Christmas

… or whatever holiday you celebrate, it doesn’t matter — where did the time go?!? Sheesh! I’ve got some suggestions if you’ve got a bunch of Secret Santa/Kris Kindle/or this other thing I came across on the intertubes the other day: a Yankee Swap. As Wiki says in the link, it’s a North American thing, but not in my region, thanks very much. It may or may not involve stealing! Wha’?!

Well, that took my mind off the fact that not only is it no time at’all ’til gift-exchanging time, I am also probably way late with a feature like this. On the other hand, that is so exquisitely apt that I am impressed with its conceptual correctness.

Okay! Never mind! Last minute gifts that are amazing and don’t look last minute! Continue reading

Haiku Review: Madame Glamour

Oh, Madame Glamour!
As cheap as chips, and fragrant —
You fade all too soon.

Lidl, who do so much for us already — the ‘American Style’ peanut butter is a guilty pleasure, and they do a delicious bottle of prosecco for, like, no price at’all — have given us a bargain fragrance that does not smell cheap.

Smelling cheap… well, it’s best to be avoided, isn’t it? Oh, God, the scents I used to wear in my misguided youth! I like to think that Coco by Chanel came along just at the right time to save me from all those drugstore brands {chemist! the power of nostalgia! I forget my new words!} that came on strong and faded away in the blink of an eye, or rather, the twitch of a nostril.

Lidl’s brand is called Suddenly: Madame Glamour. I take the colon to be implicit, because otherwise this has two names. Anyway, UK-based Lidl enthusiasts have been merrily spritzing away with this, to the tune of £2.90-ish, since May, and the perfume arrived on Irish stores just in time for Christmas. It’s been making a splash, both over there, and here:

Two independent consumer panel blind tests carried out in the UK by the Perfumer’s Guild on the Lidl Suddenly Madame Glamour perfume against the hugely popular designer branded perfume revealed incredible results – 50 women in the first test voted overwhelmingly for the Lidl Suddenly perfume with 89% saying they would prefer to wear it over the designer brand.

And, 90% of the 100 women who blind tested the perfumes in the second round said they also preferred the Lidl perfume. A blind test was also carried out on Newstalk’s Tom Dunne Show on Friday 2nd of December with the Lidl fragrance beating Chanel again live on air.

I love the design of the bottle: it’s delicate and feminine, and perfectly handbag-sized. The thing is, you will have to have it to hand, because otherwise, you’ll find that in a short time, you will be fragrance-free. Which is not the point of wearing fragrance.

Okay, seriously, at €3.49, you can buy enough of these to rig up some sort of perpetual spritzing machine, but is even that low a price a waste of dosh? I wouldn’t go that far, because the scent, which apparently contain ‘citrus and floral notes, incorporating bergamot and jasmine’* is really refreshing, and… optimistic. Yeah, it is really quite youthful, yet confident, and I love that about Madame Glamour. I suppose if there was a body cream of the same scent, that layering might help with the staying power… just an idea…

*I would like to learn more about how fragrance works. Is there a course I can take???

Sweet Sixteen: Elemis Frangipani Monoi Moisture Melt

Here is my recipe for the perfect home-spa experience: Elemis Frangipani Monoi Moisture Melt.

That’s it. That’s all you need.

I’m delighted to be able to make this recommendation in typed-out words, because confidence in my articulation abilities takes a terrible dip when I try to speak the word ‘frangipani’; ‘monoi’ is not so bad, but following hard on the heels of the preceding fail, it just makes the whole situation worse that it needs to be.

{I say fraangeepannee, as opposed to the more American way, which because of the longer, fancy ‘a’ sounds, would be frahhhhngeepahhhhhnee. Both sound equally awkward to me, in my actual voice.}

Linguistics aside, this stuff is the stuff of dreams. Fill your bathroom sink with hot water. Set the bottle — the lovely smoked glass bottle — in the water so that the solid material within softens into a luscious oil. Run a bath. You could even run the bath and meltify the Melt in the tub! Whatever: at some stage, shake in a few {million} drops. Enter; recline; relax.

Dunk your head under the water, then proceed to shake a few {million} drops of the Fraheheheheh on your head. Massage into your scalp. Sigh with pleasure.

Language, and pronunciation therefore, will cease to be an issue.

Get out of the bath before you, yourself melt. Shake the previously recommended number of drops of oil on your wet skin, massage. Pat yourself dry with a towel. Maybe rinse your hair out if you’re going out that evening — although why you would is utterly beyond my comprehension. You’ve just given yourself an amazingly self-nurturing treat! Stay home! Put your feet up! Get someone to make you your tea!

The only caution I have is that I’ve heard from pals who are as in the know as I, that the Fraheheheheh yokie can tend to discolour white toweling robes. Not that you’re not going to wrap yourself up in one regardless, but know that you may have to give it a spin in the washing machine sometime after your Melt event. Or you may close your eyes to this, because your robe is going to smell gorgeous — almost as gorgeous as you do.

€32/£29.70/$50.00

Sweet Sixteen: Bliss Vanilla + Bergamot

I’ll always remember the first time I got a whiff of Bliss’ cunning combination of vanilla and bergamot: I was working as the art director of a super cool magazine, and one of my colleagues just about thrust an open tub of the Body Buff under my nose. ‘Oh, my God!’ I sighed. ‘It smells like the beach!’*

If ever there was a hoard-worthy product line, it is this one. I couldn’t bear to not have it around, just in case — and ‘just in case’ = the possibility of sharing my fragrant, beachy, perfectly exfoliated skin with a… ‘friend’. As it is, this scent almost exists almost entirely in my memory, because I allow myself to use it so rarely. (Which either says sad things about the state of my… ‘friendships’, or implies that I choose my ‘friends’ with extreme care. Let’s agree on the latter, shall we?)

Oh, but when I do decide to break out the V+B, I do it thoroughly and completely. The Body Buff is truly superb, and one of the top five I have ever used. The Soapy Suds come next, naturally, and of course it is all capped off with the wonderfully rich Body Butter. I only wish there was a shampoo and conditioner. And a perfume. And a — a hat, or something. I wish there were clothes that smelled like this.

You think I’m kidding, don’t you? I am so not. The smell of the seashore is hardwired into the pleasure centre of my brain, so that, like a rat in a Skinner box, once I get a whiff of beachy goodness all I want is more. Some of the best times of my life were spent oceanside, and a tonne of unencumbered joy is triggered by the glorious scent of the auld V+B. I am a great believer in aromatherapy, and the days in which I walk around, wafting the joyful fragrance of undiluted joy and optimism, I have a very joyful and optimistic day. It is totally true.

Body Buff £28/€39/$36, Body Butter £20/€25/$28, Soapy Suds £16/€22/$18

*I have absolutely no idea why the combination of vanilla + bergamot smells like the beach, but it does.