With apologies to Martyn Joseph for stealing a song title the decision has been made to combine various suggested blog subjects into just this one - for now.
Dry shampoo and skirts, along with hair, shoes, lipstick and a myriad more of life's little pleasures are all part of the joy of being female.
At this point of course I stop, reflect, breathe and wonder how many comments will berate me for such blatant sexism. Of course men are equally welcome to enjoy the benefits of these products. In fact only this weekend did I travel light for an overnight stay with someone who happily gave me the run of his bathroom shelf and whose moisturiser made me consider breaking up with Number 7.
But such gentlemen are they are the exception, and for the most part this post concerns us ladies, though I don't doubt it may interest some of the un-fairer sex (ouch...)
I discovered dry shampoo just a few weeks ago when a sample size was thrust into my hand as I fought my way across the concourse at Euston station. It sat unused in the bathroom until the Greenbelt Festival (where I will not pretend I camped - time and not water was at a premium).
My first foray into its use was reasonably successful. I squirted it into the roots after a shower, enjoyed the somewhat chilly feel on my scalp whilst trying not to wonder what harm it was doing to the ozone layer, and after a few minutes brushed it out and got dressed - tada - success! Refreshed and flowing locks framing my face and swishing around my shoulders. Eat your heart out Cheryl Cole!
And so yesterday, again pushed for time, I decided to give it another go. Being in a hurry I wasn't getting changed, just freshening up my hair and make up before settling on the sofa for an evening of entertainment TV. (I know what you're thinking - they really know how to live it large in Croxley Green - but that's just the way it is, sorry)
Success - until I glanced down at my M and S Limited Collection long sleeve T shirt. And realised of course that it looked as though I had the worse case of dandruff in living memory :-( Surely dry shampoo ought to include in the instruction panel - for use only when naked?
Which of course segues seamlessly into skirts - or not. I was wearing one, for a number of reasons. I feel something of a rebel for doing so if I am honest - when exactly did jeans become the weekend wear de rigueur for everyone from toddlers to septuagenarians?
My conversation on this subject with the sales guy in French Connection (who I am sure has a bathroom shelf to rival mine or even that of my generous friend...) brought up a number of issues worthy of their own post. So having said I would do one thing I am about to do another - such is the prerogative of being woman - and leave another subject for another day.
Whilst on a cycling holiday with Mrs K, we caught sight of an advert featuring a metrosexual man using some sort of cream on his face. It being in French and not involving food, the vocabulary used took it way outside of my understanding. However, it did prompt me to remark that a regular male cyclist probably uses as many potions, lotions, creams and applications on his bum as most women use on their faces. I could provide a list but solmeone may be reading this whilst eating! Au revior.
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