As soon as the email popped into my inbox, I knew I was going to like this one. A new launch, which is exciting, and by Liz Earle, which is even more exciting. But what is truly flipping thrilling if you live in my strange little world is that it is a haircare range. Yes, you heard me right. Haircare. Liz Earle. Take a second to absorb this. Continue reading…
I have glasses. Bet you didn’t know that about me. To be honest, I don’t wear them very often because my eyesight is actually OK, I just have something tedious called astigmatism – which I have just Googled and is apparently ‘an optical defect in which vision is blurred due to the inability of the optics of the eye to focus a point object into a sharp focused image’. Wow, that’s dull.
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I’ve bored you before about my penchant for stealing from my offspring. Nothing is sacred. Easter eggs (they don’t need that many), nail varnish (my stepdaughter has some cracking shades these days), money (I’m joking, although there was that time I was short of bus fare and I raided a piggybank). Bad mummy. Continue reading…
The winter allows you to get away with all sorts of short-cuts and laziness when it comes to your appearance. Well it does me, anyway. Why shave your legs when it’s so horrendously cold you’re going to wear your opaque tights to bed anyway? Why file and paint your toenails when the mere thought of doing anything barefoot makes you shiver? Why worry about your hair when you’re just going to tuck it under a hood or put it in a winter-friendly chignon (i.e. neck-warming bundle)? Continue reading…
Sometimes, people ask me how I look after my hair. Not very often, because it’s normally a bit of a mess and not something to aspire to. But it’s very curly and quite long, so I think the general public are curious as to why it doesn’t ALWAYS look like a total nest.
Well, I have a top tip for you. It’s a bit Little House On The Prairie but this really works. Tie up your hair at night and you will avoid attracting the bed-head tangles that haunt us long-haired types. A plait is ideal, and if you’re curly the pattern in your hair won’t show. A pony tail works just as well, and leads me nicely on to my rather unusual product recommendation that you might have guessed was coming from the headline above. Continue reading…
“It takes more than a cold flannel and some Body Shop oatmeal scrub for me…” Not one of my own pearls of wisdom this time. No, it’s Edina talking to Saffy in Ab Fab. Even in my late teens I knew I had more affinity with the mother than the daughter. Not something I should necessarily be proud of, I know.
But the Body Shop has thankfully moved on – as has the whole industry. And these days, what were in the time of Lacroix and Bolly tentatively called ‘natural’ beauty products, are better known as botanical, pure, organic, plant-derived… (Organic beauty stuff obviously has to be organic, and there are a few pretenders out there so if you’re not sure – and organic is what you want – then check their credentials first.) Continue reading…
I’ve never been much of a scientist. I toyed with it at about 14 when I took physics, chemistry and biology as my ‘options’. It was partly because I wanted to be a vet (like most 14-year-old girls), an idea that seems farcical now. I feel under pressure removing a woodlouse from the living room – imagine how I would feel wrist-deep in Yorkshire terrier?
The other reason I took ‘The Three Sciences’ was because I had a small crush on the tweed-jacket-sporting physics teacher Mr Keen. But don’t worry, I didn’t even last a term before I switched to the much more airy-fairy choices of Art History and Italian. I had a Road To Damascus moment when Mr Keen was teaching us about Ohms. I looked at him and thought, I might fancy you, but this is just not worth it. Continue reading…
I thought that once I’d stopped being pregnant and breastfeeding and all that carry-on, I would miraculously (after nearly two years abstinence) return to being a Right Old Boozer. Not so. In fact, I am now what I would previously have described as a Total Lightweight. This is because going out seems to require a kind of military operation involving babysitters, so I just don’t do it often enough to get back into practice. And as for drinking at home, once I’ve had my post-toddler-going-to-bed-tipple, I’m usually ready to fall asleep myself. Tragic. But probably not a bad thing for my liver.
Anyway, whereas my drink of choice at home used to be wine, it has now become beer. It’s all part of being a lightweight. Wine, it seems, is just too strong for my delicate little Miley Cyrus constitution. (My old, Keith Richard constitution is watching from afar and shaking its head in despair.) Continue reading…
There is an area behind the TV that resembles liguine and EVERYONE in our house (including the toddler) understands more about it than me. I’m talking wires. They’re just not my thing. A TV, a DVD player, a video (still used due to the amount of Postman Pat available in this format from charity shops) and now a Wii. It’s a scary place. And if something goes wrong, then I’ll have to sit and watch a screen that says ‘Menu Options’ or similar until the man with the beard gets home. Continue reading…
I’m not really a hat person. Usually, my mop of hair is enough in itself to keep my head warm. But this winter I was forced by the extreme temperatures to become one, and it wasn’t a comfortable experience. I had to invest in a head-covering that did slightly more on a thermal scale than my manky tresses – but how much of a ‘statement’ was I meant to make? Continue reading…
