Celebrate Early

August is the new December, that is for us beauty editors and beauty pr's. This is prime time for showcasing all the new beauty goodies that will be hitting the shops in time for an exciting dash of Christmas shopping.

It's hard to create a festive feel in the air when outside is warm (ish..after all it's London!) but the uber-glam Lauder girls managed to pass yet another Christmas viewing that didn't disappoint.

A good tip is to start saving now, there's beauty goodies galore that deserve to be on your dressing table or better still start writing your Christmas wish-list early so when people ask what you want this year you can give them clear shopping advice and even a web link too! Top of my list is the exquisite silver clutch Party Collection Deluxe Travel Brush Set by Bobbi Brown and her must-have Party To Go Palette and Party Shimmer Brick. In fact, just about anything Bobbi will do. Once you've raided Bobbi's counter, move swiftly on to Estee Lauder. Their twinkling limited edition Pure Colour lipsticks engraved with Swarovski crystals is sure to be a best-seller and one I need to get may mitts on fast.  Then on to my fave fragrance, Michael Kors; celebrate 30 years of fashion with his new limited edition Gold scent. Why stop here when there's a stocking that also needs to be filled?!! Clinique's Lid Smoothie Eye Colours are sure to put a smile on every beauty junkie's face, young or old, as too Origins dinky GinZing eye cream that comes packaged in your very own coffee flask, perfect for decanting mulled wine when you need a pick-me-up on your Christmas shopping days...not as far off as you may think, 124 days, but who's counting? 

Weigh To Go

Flying with children is not exactly how I'd imagined travelling in my early 30's. Bassinets replace business class tickets and my Orla Kiely luggage is replaced with changing bags full of baby clothes for many a what-if scenario that crawls into my overactive imagination. But my main concern whenever I'm flying is how to woo over the staff behind the check-in counter so they are distracted by my charm and not starring at the large figures on the nearby luggage scales. Surprisingly, it gets me more worked up than my monthly Visa bill statement.

With years of practise and careful investigation, I now look out for signs that will assure me that I'm not charged overweight for my clearly overweight baggage. Smiles, funny conversation even compliments on nail colour usually help, but you just never know if that's enough to shmooze these stern and understandably tired check-in staff. My main concern, dare I ever admit it to my husband, is the worry of having to leave behind a very carefully selected holiday wardrobe, not to mention new holiday buys, in a steel locker in a backroom somewhere at Heathrow airport.

I can deal with a 'Heavy sticker' on my luggage, admittedly it's not the most flattering label to carry around, especially as it's neon orange (not in a S/S 11 kinda way!) However, let's face it, it's a million times better than having it swinging from a string around your neck or getting charged hundreds of pounds for being overweight.

If a label on my luggage is the only price I have to pay, then I'll live with it and avoid asking a handsome stranger to help shlepp my 'Heavy' suitcase off the baggage reclaim carousel.

The Real Life

Everyday life is always a rush, whether you have kids or not. There's always an endless list of to-do's, even to do's that are everyday chores but jotting them down and ticking them off gives so much pleasure, they still deserve paper allocation. It's questionable whether adding brushing teeth to my list can actually be counted as a to-do but I'm in the mindset that it still takes time, so why not? Problem is though; the main and most pressing to-do's get pushed back to the following day, occasionally even week (especially if it's utility bill related or weeding the front garden.) So I've made a deal with myself that I'll be more realistic with my chores, get them all done on the specified date and then no longer feel a failure for not completing 20 tasks and errands while juggling work, kids, home, husband, cooking, laundry and ironing. I'd suggest you stop beating yourself up and do the same.
Does pouring a glass of wine count?

Disruption with a capital D!!

As a beauty editor I spend a lot of my time running (literally!) from one launch to the next, so I largely rely on London transport and my legs of to get me from A to B. The latter, although not exactly in a fit state, is far more dependable and quicker than any tube or bus I've recently travelled on. The Northern Line should be renamed The Suspended Line, because nine out of ten times, it's exactly that.

Sod's law, the suspension announcement almost always comes across the tannoy just as my bank card has authorised my Oyster card top up for yet another twenty pounds.

It pains me to be running late. Call me anal, but everything I do has to be organised down to a T. Maybe it's the mother hen in me or perhaps It's because I married a German with meticulous ways. Even filing utility manuals, which I used to casually throw away in my single days, are filed alphabetically with dividers in a special filing cabinet which is again categorised by colour. Don't ask!

Though the most frustrating thing about these travel delays is you can't even blame the staff. I'd love nothing better than to rant and rave at someone, but it's not really their fault? They look sad enough. I'm not being bitchy, but have you ever been greeted by a smile from a member of the London Transport staff? Me neither.

If only I had the financial means to travel like VB, at least I'd be intentionally fashionably late.

New Kid On The Block

It's not everyday that an award-winning hairdresser opens a salon in North-West London, so when I was invited to the launch of Trevor Sorbie's new plush Hampstead premises, I managed to find childcare quicker than you can say cut and blow-dry!!

Besides the horrendous and ludicrously expensive parking, I've always loved this part of London for its village-ish style high street, the town houses, the boutique shops lurking down alleyways, the infamous creperie stall, the people-watching, but like Trevor, I knew something was missing. A stylish hairdresser that does bouncy blow-outs couldn't be better located for all the glam and cool yummy mummies that 'do lunch' at Maison Blanc or coffee at Gail's.

Step inside. The decor is white and clinical but at the same time not too cool either. The surroundings are most definitely warmed up by the super-friendly but not in-your-face staff, the type that doesn't make you feel guilty for sitting silently flicking through glossy magazines while they work their magic. And as for the bathrooms, well for me it speaks my language- donkey grey tiling set against a shiny large basin and a basket of hand towels rolled to perfection, the complete polar opposite to the bath toys, bath seats, unfolded towels and the toilet seat up that I'm used to.

With 13 chairs spread over two floors and flexible opening hours, you're almost guaranteed to get the appointment slot you want. Ask for Juan, I've never felt calmer or more relaxed in a stylists hands, perhaps it was due to his Spanish soft accent but more likely for making me feel like a VIP. Something we should all experience at least once during our child-bearing years.

Water Works

My boys love bath time, as most kids do. I put it down to all the splashing, the bath toys, the bubbles, sitting there naked and carefree, but mention hair washing day and the dynamics completely change. There's moods, there's tears, there's standing in the bath that eventually leads to slipping in the bath that leads to even more tears.

 

I've tried and tested all sorts of lotions and potions that claim to stop babies eyes from 'shampoo sting', super-duper mild formulas, organic concoctions (I don't know why but the word organic made me feel like these would definitely calm my boys) washing cups designed to stop water pouring in their eyes (they saw me coming!!) But twice a week, like Groundhog Day, we go through the same struggle for clean hair. And as a beauty editor, you can understand why shiny locks is an absolute necessity for a member of my family not just a chore. Who said boys shouldn't have lustrous hair too?

 

I was recently introduced to a new baby range Boo Boo Baby (boobooshop.com) and as a complete sucker for gorgeous packaging (all products are wrapped in gorgeous tissue paper and sealed with a Boo Boo bunny sticker) I thought I'd give their baby Very Gentle Top-to-Toe Wash, £6.99 a try. I have to admit it didn't stop the tears or the screams but their hair was squeaky clean and there was no nasty residue which meant no need for a sneaky throw of water (so a few less tears..ish) and no tangles either plus it didn't leave their skin dry and tight like some other baby bath products.

Best bit though was the bathroom smelt great too, which I'm sure you'll agree, dare I admit it, is even more important than having dirt-free toddlers.

Brush Up...literally!

I hate to add even more to your to-do lists, but if you decide and of course have the time to do any summer body prepping, my best piece of advice is to invest in a body brush.

 

You've probably read it over and over again in all the get-bikini-ready-summer-guides, but I can honestly say hand on heart, or should I say brush on thigh, it really does the trick. OK, maybe that's a tad bit overzealous. What I mean to say is, for most of us, however yummy mummy, our bikini days are long gone. If you were part of the cover-up kaftan/sarong crew pre-baby days, as I was leader, chances are post-baby days you're even more likely to wear a tummy-hold-in stupidly expensive one-piece on the beach or by the pool as well as your beloved friend, the kaftan. But less exposure should never mean less care. You deserve to feel your best even under all that light layering and pools of cleavage sweat! 

 

So, while it's still early enough before the kids break up, promise yourself, three times a week before your morning shower to get brushing (on dry skin towards the heart) pay particular attention to legs, bums and tums and don't think the harder you brush, the slimmer your silhouette, you shouldn't draw blood!  Try Aromatherapy Associates Body Brush, £12 for it's soft bristles and easy-to-grip handle.

A Quick Fix

Don't get me wrong I love the summer. Sunshine, holidays, ice cream, Frappucinos, more ice cream, golden tans, coral lips, bubblegum pink nail polish, slinging on a dress and flip-flops and you're ready to go, but personally nothing beats a fresh, crisp winters' day and the autumn/winter wardrobe that comes with it.

Maybe it's the rich colours, the heavy textures, opaque (hold-me-in) tights, lace-up boots, the huge array of scarves, hats and  gloves or maybe it's because my lumps and bumps, (the ones that are in the wrong places!) can hibernate for a few months and go completely unnoticed. Winter clothes give me that warm and comfort feeling like a baby gets when swaddled tightly for bedtime.

Thanks to Debenhams holding their A/W press day on June 1st (!!) it fed my winter addiction, that is, for the time being. A rainbow of camels, browns, turquoises, reds and of course our loyal best friend black, lined shelves and clothes rails of beautifully made designs, glossy handbags and boots galore. It was a mighty impressive collection of affordable winter deluxe from the high street.

Now all I need is to persuade my husband to summer in the Arctic!!

A Lesson Learnt

Last night I thought it was time that son1 who is approaching 3 years old, deserved to be upgraded to a bed from his cot. He's almost cracked the whole potty training thing, can converse with anyone about anything, (usually Mickey Mouse related) and from a selfish point of view I thought he could come into my husband and I in the morning rather than announce loudly from his cot that he's wide awake while we bicker as to who's turn it is to get him.

 

Boy, did I make a huge parenting mistake. To be fair, I was warned, my best friend told me whatever I do put a stairgate on his bedroom door to keep him from wandering or get a bed-guard for the sides of his bed to avoid him getting in and out, oh and falling out too. But hey like every mother I thought my child was different, he has a head on his shoulders, he's 'so advanced' and the excitement of having his 'big boy' bed alone would keep him happy and content to stay put, not to mention his new Cath Kidston linen. I didn't once consider the freedom that this child has just been handed and now me (and my skin) are paying the consequences.

 

Be warned mums, for once don't turn your nose up and listen to your fellow mums. When they say leave the transition from cot to bed to the latest possible time, do it! Poor son2 he'll be applying to universities before he's let out of his.

Blooming Gorgeous

You can always trust Jo Malone to add some excitement into your everyday life. I used to think it was simply the pristine packaging and the gorgeous gift boxes all beautifully tied in her signature black and beige paper bag, but it's so much more. Any woman who appreciates 'real' fragrance has a bottle of something Jo Malone on her dressing table. Her scents are classy, chic and far from the premium designer brands that we're so used to spritzing on daily. Jo's scents are treasured and kept for those special occasions.  

As a beauty editor I was in the very fortunate position of getting a preview of Jo's latest concoction and as ever I wasn't disappointed one little bit. The venue was decked out in fresh bluebells, doll-like models fluttered around the room in delicate blue mesh dresses and blue Afro wigs mirroring the new and first advertisement campaign of Jo Malone Wild Bluebell Cologne. It was like walking into a mesmerising fairytale. Perfectly dressed, polite and of course good-looking waiters (all the normal criteria at events like these) served delicious drinks such as apple and rhubarb juice with a splash of mint that made a healthy alternative to my usual morning caffeine-fix. A delicate and floral smell lingered in the air, but without that heady smell that reminds you of  your granny, you know the one. This scent was modern, calming and chic, almost like springtime in a bottle...(but launching in September!) 

It's no wonder I'm already excited for the next launch. .

Little Suckers

My mum was never an advocate of dummies. In fact all six of us (yes she bought up six kids and yes all the same father) had different comforters, mainly pieces of rags that ended up damp and dishevelled as time went on, but never dummies. I however, when son1 was born, decided it was modern day and he was what the midwife referred to as a 'sucker' and needed a soother of some kind. While I was breastfeeding for what seemed to be 23 out of the 24 hours of the day, his dummy came in good use for his nipple-free time. 

Forward nearly three years and he still relies on his dummy to get him to sleep, ease his bumps and bruises and more. I'd love to take it away but I admit I don't know how and if I'm bitterly honest, I can't face the tantrums, the tears and energy that would be zapped out of me (and him) for a bit of plastic, however precious. 

As every mum with a dummy-lover child knows, you don't leave home without a dummy or ten. It pains me though cause you can bet we somehow return home with at least half the amount of dummies we left with.

My main concern is hygiene, call it OCD or simply health and safety, but when son1's dummy falls on the floor, it needs to be sterilised under boiling water before placing back in his mouth. Obviously this is almost always impossible when you're out and about, but I've recently come across Tommee Tippee's super-handy Soother, Teat & Teether Wipes, claiming to kill 99.9% of bacteria, which is good enough for even a hygiene-freak like me. I highly recommend you keep some in your baby's changing bag, car, handbag or likewise, it will change yours and your baby's mood when that dummy accidentally hits the floor plus you won't lose all those other just-in-case dummies you've shlepped along for the ride.

The Future's Bright

Today started off well, clear blue skies, birds singing, kids behaving..ish and husband making me tea a.k.a pouring hot water over my herbal teabag (you'd be quite surprised how this simple act can be quite a challenge sometimes.) But not long after the tables turned on my walk to the train station when my left flip-flop suddenly broke. I mean, just like that, the thong (on my flip flop that is) came flying off and I ended up with what resembled a flipper rather than a flip-flop. It was simply impossible and noisy to walk even two steps, let alone another mile to the station. If I wasn't waddling already, thanks to one too many spoonfuls of Nutella, this broken footwear would definitely guarantee a jiggle or two.

My husband simply reacted with a, 'calm down,' which only fired me up even more. I explained the nearest Office shoe store was 4 miles away, you try hopping on one foot for that distance. Typically this scenario if it happened in Oxford Street, would be a godsend, almost a sign if you like that I need and really mean need new footwear. Even more fabulous if it happened outside Kurt Geiger's shop window, but now I'm getting carried away with a dream. But alas, I was in a suburban street with filthy pavements and a husband who also thought it was also the right time to point out what he referred to as my 'chipped and poo-coloured' toenails.

Hobbling along in a very undignified manner, I managed to get to a relative's doorstep who thankfully lent me some shoes, a size too small, but hey I was desperate, we've all done blisters in the name of fashion, I'll do it in the name of not being late. It's a characteristic I hate, in fact, I think it's incredibly rude, but that's a whole different blog.

Finally, having arrived at my meeting, it was as if the beauty PR spookily knew about my footwear disaster (or perhaps it was just the limp I was suddenly sporting from painfully walking in the wrong size shoe.) I was introduced to an array of amazingly bright and gorgeous shades from the new Rimmel London Lycra Pro Finish collection, with not a 'poo-colour' in sight! With names such as Pink Amazon, Show Off and my favourite Aqua Cool,  both my day and feet were instantly brightened. Whoever challenged the wonderful effects of colour therapy?

Parklife

Why is it that as we get older, our inner child becomes stronger? I love nothing more than spending a sunny afternoon running in the park chasing my sons around swings and roundabouts and kicking the latest favourite football of the month- May is all about Mickey Mouse, April is now considered old school with faded images of Iggle Piggle and Upsy Daisy. I look around the playground, thankful that my Cutler & Gross sunglasses hide a multitude of sins and their dark lenses give me the wonderful advantage to stare at others. But then it dawned on me, there's no mums here, instead there's a sea of young, slim, foreign nannies using childcare as a means to live and breathe London. I wonder, with a tad bit of jealousy, where are these children's mothers? Do they work full-time or are they just getting their talons manicured? But those envious seconds quickly pass when I look at my two sons running freely and proudly smiling at each other about their climbing frame achievements. I soon realise, I'm the lucky one standing here, these days fly by far too quickly, with a blink of an eye they'll soon be snogging girls on the park bench nearby. (And mums please note, have your nails groomed by all means, but 1. donkey grey nails is so last season and 2. please pick nannies whose waist circumference is larger than the average British girls thigh.)

Grey Matters

They say that in face-to-face conversation you should focus directly to the person opposite and speak directly into their eyes. Perhaps it’s just good manners or just something to focus on when the conversation gets a little too boring. The thing is, my grey hairs that seem to be sprouting typically at the front of my hairline are a major distraction to all. In fact, friends, colleagues even the checkout girl at my local Tesco, glare a second too long at the top of my head for me to think it was just a coincidence. They can deny it till they’re blue in the face and pretend they hadn’t noticed until I point the little buggers out myself. But it’s true, my dark locks are turning grey, I like to call it silver, sounds far more glamorous.

The thing is I don’t have the time nor the money to sit in a hairdresser for three hours to get my hair coloured. Those good old days are long gone. I used to love nothing more than sitting undisturbed flicking through glossy magazines and eavesdropping on the conversation beside me while dunking my mini wafer into my skinny latte. These days, I not only have to think of booking an appointment way in advance to get a convenient slot but also a babysitter too and then there’s the travelling time to consider and the added Kerastase ritual treatment of course.

However, thanks to the wonderful and talented bods at Headmasters, they’ve cottoned on to the fact that Sunday opening is just as essential as every other day of the week, so there’s no babysitter costs and no sense of guilt for the time out, just a warm feeling that my husband is having a taste of what it’s like to look after the kids single-handedly.

So really, things are not so grey after all.

Toilets and Tribulations

I read somewhere that mothers have an inner intuition or smell or call it what you like, that means they never feel disgust at changing they're children's soiled nappies. My husband chuckles!! Toilet training my son has been a challenge that I wasn't aware of when i signed up to motherhood, though I keep being told by fellow mums, girls are so much easier to train, they don't quite get that this doesn't help me or make me feel a better mother when I have sons and no daughters. So, we've done the treats, the star chart, the special presents, the lot and still when it comes to time to doing a poo, let's just say we're always far from a potty and toilet and always near to my favourite Heal's furniture. Oh, did I mention that in his playgroup son happily uses the potty without an accident in sight. Three words come to mind, wrap, little and finger. You work it out!

Sleepless Beauty

I never thought I'd say it, but I miss waking up to an alarm clock, even that damn beeping sound is kinder to my ears than son 1 or 2 crying to let me know they're awake. You just can't press snooze on a child! And if like me, there's always a million and one things to do once you've put them to bed and that inner promise to be tucked up in bed by 10pm is just a dream.

With my skin as dry as a bone, my body physically exhausted and my mind full of clutter and to-do's, I turn to my best friend, my beauty cupboard- a stack of lotions, potions, makeup and perfumes that make me feel 'normal', well as normal as a mum-of-two can feel! The answer comes in a silver tube labelled Dermalogica Multivitamin Power Recovery Masque. Slap it on before bed, then rinse off when you wake. With the words 'power' and 'recovery' on the label, it ticks all the right boxes for my glowing complexion. Surely, it's not a crime to look like your coping, even if your not?