A drought in posting...such as the one that is currently blighting this blog...can usually be attributed to excessive quantities of work...or travel...or work-related travel. All of which are a blessing in the majority of respects but do have the unwelcome side-effect of causing the skin on my face to resemble the desert...beige, arid, and kind of scrubby.
Usually I'd fight these symptoms with extra-large sunglasses (working under the theory that if you can't see the dark lines under my eyes, they don't exist)...and the sort of quixotic hopefulness that characterized the beauty-outlook of ladies a few hundred years ago...when they ran to the mirror, hoping that the day would find them "in good face." Luck...and anything vaguely resembling the sort of sunshine that would necessitate eye protection...having run out, I needed a different solution.
One that I found, completely by accident, when I stumbled across a Clarins spa...and decided to try their Moisture Replenisher facial. Forget the fact that I spent the rest of the day enveloped in a herbal/floral mist...or that I was so relaxed during the facial that I almost nodded off...or any of the other random elements that I found so enjoyable...at the conclusion my skin actually looked healthy, well-rested, and non-abused. Even...gasp...dewy.
Sadly, there aren't too many Clarins' spas in the US; but if you do find yourself near one I strongly encourage you to treat your skin to a little pampering...dewy-ness, and not having to wear sunglasses on a cloudy day, being worth its weight in gold.
Like me, you may have had a yen to jump on the sonic skincare bandwagon and buy Olay's very wallet-friendly cleansing system...wanting, for once, to be frugal. Like me, you may have found this to be a frustrating and virtually impossible mission as no drug store seems to have them stocked on the shelves (the space is there for them, just no product...my personal theory is that they are delivered in the dead of night and sold by pushers by the back door of the store). Alright, I could have ordered one online...but, illogically, I considered it a drug store purchase and was not going to admit myself defeated by my inability to find it in an actual bricks-and-mortar drug store.
Friends, I admitted defeat.
Not to the point where I bought Olay's $26 version online...or where I broke down and ordered Clarisonic's $200 version that I knew (in my heart of hearts) was the one that I really wanted. No, I went for the mid-range NutraSonic Face Brush Skin Care System for $86. Yes, it's a strange kind of retro blue...and no, it doesn't have a timed shut-off like it's more expensive cousin...but (after a couple of weeks use at home and in hotels) I can say that I wouldn't give it up without a fight. Skin is smoother (I'd use the "baby's bottom" analogy but, never having touched an infant's derriere I'm unable to accurately make a comparison)...pore's are smaller...and (let's be honest) less grubby looking. And, as I have a five-year old's love of pushing buttons, it's made my morning post-wake-up routine a lot more fun.
A quick missive about a couple of new travel beauty bag essentials that are (I hope) ensuring that I look a little less bedraggled...tired...and jet-lagged...than I would otherwise appear. They're both "drugstore luxe"...more expensive than the majority of products they share shelf space with...yet less expensive than a number of department store options.
First up, Vichy's Aqualia AntiOx Anti-Fatigue Ice-Effect Eye Stick...which feels like it came out of the fridge, even when it has been dragged out of an 80 degree suitcase...reduces puffiness...and generally makes me feel like my eyes are wide open (as opposed to blearily semi-closed).
Travel essential number two...Neutrogena's Revitalizing Lip Balm in Petal Glow (the sort of dusky pink that is universally flattering)...designed to "instantly moisturize lips, leaving them looking fuller and more defined" and "improve lips' texture"...it also has an SPF of 20, thereby making me feel like I am doing something beneficial.
Two pros...fighting a plethora of travel-induced cons...
In all things there is the high-maintenance option...and the low one. When it comes to lips...as in so many other things...I tend to fall at the LM end of the scale...with an addiction for lip balm and gloss...a couple of lipsticks lurking sheepishly in my medicine cabinet...and an inability to color inside the lines. As I constantly seem to "misplace" these items (for which I blame large handbags and stuffing my jacket pockets with the enthusiasm of an over-eager chipmunk) I am always on the lookout for replacements. Enter Covergirl's Natureluxe Gloss Balm...a gloss...with SPF 15...and, in peony, the blue/red shade that seems to work well with very pale skin and blonde hair.
Of course, if you talk about low-maintenance you have to balance things out...at the HM (sub genre - kooky) end of the spectrum are these temporary lip tattoos. Thousands of questions come to mind...what happens if it suddenly starts to peel off when you're talking to someone?...if you kiss is there a chance of lip transfer?...and, most importantly of all, are there really that many people who want pink polka dot, leopard print, or fishnet lips?
Mornings are somehow better after a couple of laps round the local pond. Not for the physical health benefits...the Starbucks clutched in my grubby little hands would preclude that. The mental ones, on the other hand, cannot be over-emphasized...half an hour or so watching the ducks being dive bombed by a squadron of over-zealous swallows and I am ready to start the day...
I'd like to think that the correlation between the number of bicycle-related posts that I do (relatively high)...and the actual amount of time I spend cycling (pathetically low)...indicates the desire to add a little more exercise to my regimen. The reality, as I'll cheerfully admit, is that cycling...in my mind's eye...is of the variety much beloved by movies from the middle of the last century...where well-coiffed ladies...and mischievous gamines...traveled from point A to B...beautifully dressed...rarely displaying even a bead of perspiration...with enviably chic bicycles and baskets.
Which leads me to Kate Spade's Adeline bicycle...a little too vehemently green for my tastes...and (more importantly) the accompanying Essex Bike Scout bag...
Like Superman (before he nipped into the phone booth)...it's mild-mannered cross-body satchel by day...handlebar hugger by night (or "later in the day" for those of you more factual readers).
Finally, an accessory that works for the 99.9% of the time I'm not actually on two wheels.
Okay, I'm a convert. When my hairdresser...God, how strange that sounds after all these years of self-cutting...walked me through the correct way to wash and condition (shampoo scalp area only...condition ends only) I was, I have to admit, more than a little skeptical...wary that it was some deviously Machiavellian way to convince me to buy the shampoo and conditioner available at the salon.
Yet I performed the ritual each morning (with the drugstore s and c that I already owned)...and my hair did seem to respond well. The skepticism, however, remained. Then I came across this article in The Guardian. Message received...I'm a believer.
Oh, how I wish I cycled more...not, you understand, for the health benefits...the joy of riding through the park, watching the sun filter through the leaves...dappling the ground as the squirrels dash off for fear of being run over. Or any other rational reasons, for that matter.
No, my current urge to put foot to pedal and wobble off into the sunset is entirely due to Sawako Furuno's leather-clad, leopard print helmet. Put simply, it's perfection...in life-saving form.
The problem with having a personal manifesto is that, sooner or later, you're going to abandon it. Well, unless you're a dictator...you rarely hear them saying "I used to believe in such-and-such but then I changed my mind"...but, for us non-dictators, the PM can be a problem.
Case in point, for the last 2-3 years I have stood by my own PM of never visiting a hairdresser...for, armed with only a glass of wine and a pair of professional scissors, I was perfectly happy with the results of my own weed-whacking experimentation. The other day. however, I decided that...while I love "disheveled"...I wanted a slightly more polished disheveled than my skill-set would allow. Cue an almost obscene amount of online research...and a rather sheepish (insert lamb to the slaughter reference) visit to a local salon.
PM in tatters I am...as I recline upon the broken ruins of my personal policy...rather happy.
I realized the other day that, unless my liquor stash runs dry and I start using them in cocktails, the four bottles of perfume huddled together on my (sorry, I know it's terribly old-fashioned but I love the term) dressing table will run out sometime around 2020. Which, all things considered, should, I suppose, be chalked down as a "good thing"...I certainly can't complain about getting value for money and...having finally tracked down a quartet of "signature scents"...I can't whine about being bored of the same old smell day-in, day-out...about the only niggle left to me is that three of the four bottles are considerably larger than the FAA will allow in hand-luggage.
Which leads me to ye olde quest for a non-plastic travel atomizer that I'll actually enjoy carrying...stay tuned for future developments.
Being (somewhat) bent double by a sudden lower back spasm I'd like to take a moment to sing the praises of two unsung heroes of the popular press. Sunbeam's King Size heating pad...and Dr. Singha's Mustard Rub...I salute you...for without your combined efforts I'd currently be lying on the floor in the fetal position.
Welcome to another installment of "The Travel Trials of Tallulah"...this week's episode "If I see another small plastic baggie I may burst into tears."
I don't mean to be a whiner. I am, I'll admit, fortunate to have a job that affords me the luxury of travel...the chance to see new places...and try my hand at karaoke in a multitude of hotel bars. However, the ubiquitous FAA toiletries baggies are bringing me down...the demoralizing placement of baggie in bin...the knowledge that your fellow travelers can cast judging glances on your murky selection of under 3fl oz toiletries and products "borrowed" from hotels...the lack of mystery and, let's face it, style.
I'm going to daydream about leisurely travel...in-flight snacks of a slightly higher level than Nabisco...and leather toiletries cases...
I may not be able to pronounce it...a-kay...a-cay-ah...ah-say-eee...but that doesn't mean that I can't appreciate the benefits it confers upon my skin.
Kiehl's a-kay...a-cay-ah...(damn it) Açaà Damage-Protecting Toning Mist...a couple of squirts (or, if like me you have the misfortune to be saddled with a broken pump, a few splashes) on the old visage and you are better prepared to face the day.
Spring...if I have to step outside and brave the arctic winds and snow flurries...or check the almanac...or try to find any plant hardy enough to tantalize with a little bud action...has not arrived yet.
Spring...if I look at my fingernails...is here. For those ten digits are basking in a Belle de Jour-ish tone from essie's spring collection entitled sand tropez (finally a terrible pun appears on this blog and I am not the perpetrator!) Such a balmy state of euphoria has been induced by this one little bottle of sandy beige goo that I'm tempted to throw caution (and several other things) to the winds and leave my thermal gloves at home...
Sometimes, I have to admit, the Hebden heart gets a little overwhelmed with homesickness...missing random things like pubs, tomato ketchup crisps, M&S, and all those other little odds and sods that make Britain what it is. Then I see something like these...and think of the avalanche of God awful souvenirs celebrating the upcoming royal wedding that I'm (thankfully) managing to avoid...
I'll quote a spokesperson for the company...because, quite frankly, I couldn't make this stuff up..."Crown Jewels Royal Wedding Souvenir prophylactics are a unique way to remember this great British occasion. All at Crown Jewels have worked tirelessly to craft these heirloom quality love sheaths. In years to come, they will be a timeless memento of a magical wedding day."
I'm not sure what's worse...the term "love sheath"...or the thought that 30 years from now someone is going to pull a rather wizened box of condoms out of their display cabinet to show to the grand kids.
It's been a while since the old Hebden noggin was brightly hued...I blame the emotional (and, truth be told, physical and architectural) damage that occurred when I decided that I wanted to emulate AstroTurf. At the end of the exercise, my hair...the bathroom sink...both hands...several towels...and various other sundry objects that I came into contact with before being dry...were the color that lifts the hearts of miniature golfers and leprechauns. A bright, brilliant, green.
The urge lingers though. The flame...though somewhat dampened by past experiences (I won't even mention the lilac shade that looked lovely in the bottle and disturbingly "old lady rinse" on the head)...was rekindled by the sight of Charlie le Mindu's pink lollipop wig (a little number he knocked up for Selfridges as part of their Bright Young Things collection).
The demure cut...and candy cane coloring...are intriguing. The thought of what could happen in a strong wind...slightly off-putting. To wig...or not to wig...that is the question?
There's nothing quite like the sudden realization that the blog post you could swear you wrote...and which you were confident was nestling quietly on your blog...was a mere will-o'-the-wisp, a wraith, a ghost of your imagination. My excuse...and what will be used as a standard excuse for any show of ditsy-ness over the next three weeks...is that (despite my end of year claims towards moderation) I decided that a 21 day cleanse was just the thing to while away those grey end-of-January-beginning-of-February days.
There'll be no time to whine about the weather...or mull over how many layers are needed to maintain feeling in my extremities...I'll be too busy trying to decide if my morning "shake" should be "chocolate" or "vanilla" or trying to find something from the restricted lunchtime food options that will make quinoa vaguely palatable (today's "pilaf" being not quite the taste sensation that I had envisioned). And yes, in case you're wondering, all quotation marks are being used sarcastically.
The best case scenario come mid-February is a sort of re-set...where my body forgives me for all of the junk that I have been throwing into it when I travel. Worst case scenario...I go insane. On a positive note, the cocktail shaker...instead of being unemployed for the next three weeks...makes a perfect jumbo straw holder (the multi-colored plastic tube being a necessary component of any self-respecting "shake").
I have to say...right off the bat...that the image above is not of my hand...my manicure is self-done...and I, along with many kindergartners, have a problem coloring outside the lines. The color though, Chanel's Rouge Fatal, is currently residing on my digits. The deep red is the perfect antidote to the "I don't know what to wear to the party tonight" blues...my outfit may be thrown together but at least my nails will look "done".
Despite being afflicted with, as Julius Caesar might have said on a bad hair day, "ignavus decor"...or "lazy beauty" as the slightly less fastidious Britons would have called it...I am currently under the spell of a piece of beauty impedimentia...to be more precise, a Complexion Brush. Discovered at Whole Foods whilst I was foraging for the Thanksgiving chicken...and celebratory brussel sprouts...I am addicted. For brush + a small squirt of Kiehl's Foaming Non-Detergent Washable Cleanser = an almost angelic sense of cleanliness (and a marked reduction in pore size).
The photographs do not belong to me (except the ones I personally shot.) All photos are only used by commenting purposes and none are used for commercial reasons.
The avatar image used for this blog was taken by Ryan Robinson.
...a gloss...with SPF 15...and, in peony, the blue/red shade that seems to work well with very pale skin and blonde hair.
...and 
. Discovered at Whole Foods whilst I was foraging for the Thanksgiving chicken...and celebratory brussel sprouts...I am addicted. For brush + a small squirt of Kiehl's 
