Also known as the things I – as a 24-year-old woman – have shamelessly begged various members of my family for, until they have now stopped replying to my texts.
They say you should change your scent with each new man you date, which is something I forgot to do with my fella and we nearly murdered the other recently – so I thought I’d give the poor lad a break and invest for superstition’s sake.
After riding the Estée Lauder Modern Muse train all the way from 2015, the natural progression from ‘pretending-I’ve-got-my-shit-together’ to ‘oh-fuck-I-might-actually-have-my-shit-together’ scent came in the guise of Chanel’s latest offering: Gabrielle. Inspired by the leading lady herself, this youthful take on the timeless Chanel family will hopefully let me convey some semblance of togetherness – on the premise that you can only smell me; not see me smearing lipstick all over my chin on the tram.
Given that a good’s night sleep is about as fabled as Father Christmas himself these days, I’ve somehow convinced myself that spending over £50 on one pillow is wholly justifiable. Whether it’s the cat pissing in the corner of the room (I wish I was joking), or waking up early to hairdry my knickers clean (should really put a new washing machine on this list); getting more than 6 hours zzz is a nightly struggle.
At this price, I’m still hoping it’s going to give me a lap dance too.
I had one of those day-crushing moments last week, where the world instantly slams to a halt and you have to swallow a scream on the packed bus: I only went and dropped my trusty makeup sponge on public transport. Given I merely have to think about being 15 to sprout a new chin spot, there was no way the ‘5 second rule’ was coming into play here.
What was a girl to do? Stop being a greb who uses artful finger blending teamed with a circa 2012 Mac blusher brush, of course – enter the Zoeva *insert whatever the hell it’s called*.
On the note of dodgy skin, the haunting calls of true womanhood (hi finelines, hello dull complexion) led to me scouring the Kiehl’s website (with a handy 20% off Black Friday code clutched firmly in my Ctrl+C, that is). I’m not going to tell you what I ordered just yet – a) in case it’s shite and I’m a lost cause b) I’ll review it in the New Year. Although I did order that Midnight Recovery stuff and – swear down – if Karlie Kloss herself doesn’t emerge out of my pores, shit is going to hit the fan.
Shout out 2 my ex for introducing me to these badboys (lol jk, you’re an absolute weapon). Given my sister and I haven’t a well-functioning maternal bone between us, we have opted to thoughtfully split a pack of these dodgy af imported whitening strips for our respective Christmas presents this year. Any excuse to FaceTime her at 3am with just me teeth out.
What’re you hoping to find under the Christmas tree? Peace, love and an unlimited Wagamamas card aside, that is… Drop me a comment, you never know: might buy it for ya.
Okay, that’s a lie – but worth a try, no?