# 138 Guilt RIP

Right, so it turns out that a new job + a new baby + an almost-new-year adds up to not a spare second to do very much of anything at all. Which is why this blog hasn't been updated in over a month - shameful. I'm sorry. And a wee bit sorrowful. Racked with guilt seems to be my latest thing. I wake up feeling bad for rushing out on the bairn; come in feeling bad for being late; spend days at home feeling bad for having to check in on email when I should be bathing/playing/singing/dancing/smiling at/with the baby; and that list of things to-do - grows and grows and grows, until the guilt at the undone and unsaid and unfinished stuff wakes me up in the middle of the night. But not for very long of course, because I'm currently getting, on average, 24 hours sleep a WEEK. Ouch. Everybody hurts.

But then I realise that I'm being a very silly-billy [thanks mum], and it's time to grow (& shut) up. The fact is, beneath the tiredness & tumult (should I continue to blog so openly when I have a high-profile new job on a consumer magazine? can honesty always be the best policy? will I accidentally slip up here & end up on the silenced scrapheap?), I've realised that I'm creating my own conflicts. The truth is here, and it is that I shall always, always speak my own mind and be honest about my loves, loathes and couldn't-care-lesses. I also know that one of the reasons I landed my new gig is because the editor values an opinionated voice & isn't scared of letting it sing. Yes, we rely on advertising just like every other magazine on the market, but unlike most, my mag also speaks to a unique sort of woman - a truly savvy, enquiring and intelligent type who expects more from her magazine. And that 'more' is, I hope, real & raw & un-revised authority, honestly & insight. That's my modus operandi in my new role - to be REAL - and do away with all the overblown cliches, hyperbole and BS that can haunt beauty. Guilt trip over I say to myself. You are who you are & you were hired for a reason. There is a place in this world where one can be both beauty director & unbiased blogger. Here we go.

So, despite my stint of self-counselling, I've also become one of those women who is forever bemoaning her eye bags, her 5-minute morning make-up routine [it used to be 15], her lack of sleep/rest/lazy/me time... and I just don't like it. The truth is - as the other gazillion working mums out there can testify - it is hard & tiring. But there's another truth nestled among the moans & that's that it's also, really, very, very wonderful. My petite one is now a full 4 months & a bit old, which means that she's becoming a wholehearted, full-throated, big-smiled joy. Gone are those days of crying for no reason, of needing to be held every second, of waking up 11 times a night to feed... she's now content to watch, smile, follow, listen and is also perfectly content to be left alone for rather long periods too... deary me, how things change in the span of an eyelid's blink. I have one entire day a week with her when neither my husband nor sister nor mum nor dad descend, and it's becoming a very special one - where we do simple, smiley things such as playing peekaboo and watching Postman Pat. Joy. We even managed to take a 2-hour mid-morning nap together... a rare, but wondrous treat. Alas, despite her gorgeous mood, I was so busy with washing/cleaning/bottle-making/changing/singing/emailing that I didn't get time to do the essential end-of-the-week groom [I like to go into a long weekend as a scrubbed, buffed & shorn version of myself]. So, here I am now, at 19.20, with baby a-snooze, aware of the wash-and-go session that needs to be fitted into tomorrow's morning... the past weeks have been prime testing ground for the simplest of new regimes - and have turfed up some serious time-saving treasures:

Elemis Melting Cleansing Gel - brand new, lovely oozy, buttery texture, great for a good old massage, then emulsifies beautifully with water to rinse clean away like milk. Good stuff. If only it could be used over eyes too (but then again, if it could, it wouldn't have the same anti-ageing benefits).

Inlight Organic Night Balm - from the rather special fellow who dreamed up Spiezia [which he is now in no way affiliated to], Mario's blend of pure nourishing oils (macadamia, carrot, evening primrose) is so spot-on for winter-sore and tired skin. It's also a lazy girls dream - you literally massage it in all over a cleansed face & a thicker layer makes for an overnight mask too. Watch skin suck it up - mornings aren't so scary now.

Aveda Damage Remedy Treatment - because nobody does it better, and with my 'artificial' poker-straight strands [here's where I get it 'done': http://wemakeupaswegoalong.blogspot.com/2010/10/wish-it-were-sunday.html] it's essential to keep tips in top condition.

OCCO Bath & Body Wash Kornati No 7 - because I'm miles and miles from the sea and this smells like the Turkish coast... mineraly, salt-tinged and a breath of fresh air on bleary-eyed mornings. Oh, and it's about 5 times thicker than normal shower gels, so it goes a hell of a long way.

Jo Malone Vitamin E Body Balm - My beloved Creme de la Mer Body Lotion ran out so I fished this from the cupboard & am mightily impressed. Cocoa-buttery but with a sweet scent that is less cloying than the traditional stuff, it absorbs rather beautifully - none of that rubbing a white-sticky-stripe-leaving cream for minutes until it disappears, nope, despite being thick as peanut butter, a few quick swipes and the body sucks it up. Just luvverly.

Murine Irritation & Redness Relief Eye Drops - from pharmacies this one, but bloody hell, if it doesn't just destroy every trace of the 4-hours-a-night evidence. And unlike most brightening eye drops, this doesn't irritate in the slightest. Ideal SOS stuff - particularly near the end of the working week.

Ojon Rub-Out Dry Cleanser - sometimes it's just utterly impossible to wash & dry my hair. I would like to do so every single day, but at present, I'm managing 3 times a week. Not great. Thankfully, this spray in stuff is truly great [and even better than the KMS one which I've previously raved about]. I spray it in & massage it in with fingers, clip it back, and then proceed with the cleanse/moisturise/make-up routine, then once made up, I take it down & give it a good 30-second upside-down brush, and there you go, big ol' hair once more. Even better on days when you want to do an up-do: just the right amount of quiffy bounce.

And that's it from me for now.

Bye Bye Guilt et Au Revoir Tristesse.

#15 Message Scent...

I've never succumbed to the idea that a woman should have a signature scent. It seems to be just the sort of thing that is advised by Debrett's, or Coco Chanel, or eccentric ex-Vogue fashion directors who wear the same precious musk every day and leave notes in their wills about getting doused with the stuff before being buried in it. Personally, I can think of nothing worse. How I wish to smell is dictated by one thing only - my mood. Today I was a Chanel No.19 girl. I needed a classic floral with a grown-up twist to counterbalance my girly sundress and topaz heels. Spot on. Yesterday, I wanted to feel sexy and as it was a little black dress night, I went for Jo Malone Pomegranate Noir - a scent that hooked my nose in seconds. On really happy days, when the sun is shining, but it's not too hot, I make a beeline for Miller Harris Fleur du Matin - I've sprayed it so many times that it's absorbed into the towels and tiles of my guest bathroom, for which I always receive compliments. When I want to lift my spirits or if I'm feeling slightly unwell and can't bear to wear a prim perfume, it's the new Aveda Yatra PureFume. It is how you'd expect to smell after a deep, calming Aveda massage. It uses a blend of four essential oils, two of which (rose and sandalwood) are among my favourites and also crop up in the glorious Aromatherapy Associates Rose & Sandalwood Facial Oil - which I've been known to rub on my wrists and neck in place of parfum.

I love them all - and hundreds more - Prada, Vivienne Westwood, Cerruti, several Miller Harris, Nina Ricci, Antonia's Flowers... Each one will smell 'correct' on a different day and not a single one is fitting all of the time. The joy is in deciphering the day's mood and matching it to the scent. The result can be harmonious - or disastrous. I once wore Miller Harris Citron Citron on a very dark day. A bad mood, bad weather, bad hair day. All day long it jarred - it was hitting major, sharp, citrus notes, while I wanted to be left alone to stomp around in the minors. I should have chosen something smoky, something musky or, perhaps, nothing at all. Then, at least, I wouldn't have had a beautiful scent sullied by my shady temper. But, you see, that is what I love about perfume. It requires a decision to be made that will not only have a visceral effect, but will ultimately also reveal a lot about you to the world at large. It's as communicative as a slash of red lipstick, an Amnesty International bumper sticker, a swastika. And the idea that a single bottle of scent could encapsulate my myriad moods or aptly express my everchanging mental state is nothing but ludicrous. Yet, because I've been asked to name my favourite scent so many times (even during a particularly odd job interview), I almost cultivated a fake one. No one would've known. No one but me...

No, for me, a signature would be nothing more than a fughese, a fake - a forgery.