fruitybeauty

Your say: Lip balm

A nice chap (excuse the pun) yesterday asked me if it was possible to become addicted to Chapstick, because he feared he was. And then he asked if Chapstick really was the best lip balm for dry lips, and if not, then DAMMIT WOMAN, WHAT IS IT?

Well, it'll be the one that doesn't leave your lips drier than before you applied it, I said.

You're USELESS, he screamed, which was rather dramatic, I thought.

But know what? As I change my 'favourite lip balm' all the time, it's hard for me to answer this question fairly. (Having said that, I am currently enjoying Living Nature's manuka honey lip balm. And I do love Egyptian Magic from Mecca, which I use for everything, not just lips.)





But who cares.

Which lip balm do YOU think is best?

Hit the comment button below, and let the world know.

I'm just a sensitive guy.

At least my teeth are.

I'll be honest: Last night was a bit rough. Kind of felt like there was an icy wind blowing through my gums, and my teeth had forgot to put on their little jackets and mittens.

I'm fine now but there was definitely some swear words ill-suited to a nice blog like this and some heavy Panadeine consumption last night. Just so you know.

Also: I maybe forgot to mention I had the new Zoom Advanced Power, which is stronger than the regular Zoom 2, and Britesmile, and probably Mr T if they were to get into a pub brawl.

Oh, and I found a way around the whole no-coffee thing - I DRANK IT THROUGH A STRAW.

Hope the dentist isn't reading this.
Hope it doesn't wreck my fluorescent chompers.
Hope that's how you spell fluorescent.

I can't drink coffee for 48 hours.

And aren't they just. (Yes, yes the blush is nice too, but take five cheeks: This isn't about you.)

I had no need to be scared. This dental centre has lavender oil burners, comfy couches and dim, cosy lighting in their waiting room to ease jitters. A fat can can of nitrous oxide would be the clincher, but I suppose there might be legal ramifications. And, my dentist, the lovely and super-thorough Dr Arvin K Bartolazo (www.pittstdentalcentre.com.au) did a cracking job of reassuring me, and whitening my teeth to the point someone may mistake me for a TV Personality, or you know, a large, white parasol.

Maybe cracking is the wrong phrase to use, as it subconsciously implies pain.
Of which I had none.

It didn't hurt.

Whether that was the Nurofen plus/Panediene combo pre-whitening, or the episode of Friends making me giggle (or attempting to, my mouth was a bit preoccupied with the whole locked open thing) on the LCD screen above me as the UV light did its thing (Friends is this great new show about a group of savvy, witty inner-city friends - you should totally check it out if you get a chance, I have a feeling it might blow up), I don't know. But i did not feel pain.

"You've got the whitest teeth I've ever seen," the good doc said when we'd done the second 15-minute treatment (there are three), in the way that substitute teachers say 'You're the best class I've ever taught' even though you just lit fire to the science room blinds with your bunsen burner.

"Ohhh, I bet you say that to all your patients" I said, playing shy.

"No, really, you do. And I've seen a lot of teeth."

And after seeing my toothlets in the mirror, I'm a believer. I feel like someone shoved a brand new sneaker into my mouth, only with less laces and rubber.

Suffice to say, I recommend Zoom Advanced Power if you too want really, really white teeth. It takes less than two hours, costs between approximatley a thou and if the commercials are to be believed, will get you a better job and a genetically perfect partner before you can say 'Do my teeth look white in this?'

PAIN ALERT!
PAIN ALERT!

Okay. I just had a searing, shooting pain in my mouth. Ouch. Ouchouchouch. Alright, okay, alright... It's gone. But I guess that's to be expected when you strip your teeth nude to re-paint them. And they do warn you to expect it for around 48 hours. And advise you to munch on pain killers in lieu of it 99% definitely happening. And tell you no coloured foods or drinks for 48 hours. (Effectively leaving me with rice, milk and cottage cheese.)

And if you can't be assed with it all?

Fake tan your face, wear some bronzer and slide on some blue-based red lipstick - it's the easiest, non-dentist way to make your teeth look whiter.

White on.

I'm off to get my teeth whitened first thing in the morning, using Zoom Advanced Power.

I did Britesmile a few years back and that worked a treat. But you know, red wine, coffee, and a penchant for eating dirt can lead to stained teeth.

Now. I wasn't scared of my Zooming... until Boyfriend told me having this treatment was one of the single most painful things he has ever experienced, after being attacked by a wild Thai monkey.

He couldn't even finish the treatment, he said in a tone usually reserved for telling people about the passing of a loved one. Oh. And then there's the sensitivity, he said, the RAGING, SEARING sensitivity. He struggled to eat frozen ice goods for days. He struggled to eat anything two degrees warmer than frozen ice goods for days, too.

Gosh balls, I thought. Maybe i'll cancel? But then i thought of how lovely my shining, gameshow host pegs would look. And made my decision. I've packed the quite-serious painkillers the dentist said to take before the treatment into my handbag, and i have made a vow to Zoom for the people. To take the challenge of possibly, extremely painful dentist work, and tell the world how it really is. Because sensational, sparkling white teeth or no, you deserve the truth.

Or something equally important because it is also in italics.

Finally.

The picture loaded.

Lucky. Poor Janine's been crouched over for hours waiting for that to work.

I get six weeks of perfect polish. Gel-ous?

Ah, pundamonium.

I gibber to mates/fellow employees/bus drivers so much about my gels, that i thought i should tell you about them too. You'll thank me, honestly.

Maybe you won't send me a bunch of flowers, but you will definitely be grateful.

They are: Bio-sculpture gels. (www.biosculpture.com.au)

They give me: Low-maintenance nails. For toes, I get six weeks of perfect, shiny nail colour with NO CHIPS (not even salt and vinegar). Fingy's are lucky to crack three weeks cause we type with them and open envelopes with them and dig for buried treasure with them. I choose to gel my toes only for this reason.

They come in: About a billion colour choices AND you can paint over them with your own colour and then remove it again without damaging the gel's colour or intensity at all. Your gels just sit there, all smiley and shiny, patiently waiting for a more substantial pair of footwear than a slab of Brazilian rubber masquerading as a shoe.

They cost: It depends on your salon - 'Chezza's Nail Trends' may be cheaper than 'Harmony Spa', for instance - but maybe around 70 clams and then 50 for maintenance ( an infill and re-paint thingy) every 6 weeks-ish.

They are: The single best thing someone who was previously getting fortnightly pedicures could stumble upon.

They are definitely not: Acrylics. At all. They don't stink, they get painted on like polish, and this particular brand of gels doesn't trash your nails at all. In fact your claws get even stronger underneath the gels. If you wear acrylics, may I suggest making the transistion to these babies. In fact, if you wear acrylics, as I have never tried them, can you tell me: Is it true that acrylics ruin your nails? Or is that an urban myth, like elves, and South Australia.

They make me: Smile. A lot.

Here is: Janine from Bio-sculpture HQ giving me my eye-hurty bright mandariny nails. You can't see it in this picture, but she's kind of awesome.

That's annoying: The image won't load.

Who's a naughty blog host: Typepad.

Gwen's winding us up.

Paris sounds like Gwen.

Gwen Sounds like Fergie.

And Kelis is gonna be very shirty that her Milkshake bassline has been coated with amateur yodelling and a brand of rapping that makes Kevin Federline sound like Snoop.

http://hype.non-standard.net/search/gwen%20stefani/1/

Nyeh.
I'll like it by the late night news.

Gwen's hair is too fun and her eyebrows are too immaculately groomed for me to stay disappointed with her for too long.

Avoid the tips.

Sure, we all want lovely, natural looking eyelashes like this excited young man.






















But a lot of us just don't know how to do it right.

Especially when it comes to the lower lashes, which I believe should only be coated in mascara if you know what you're doing.

So, do you know what you're doing?

Yes?

Liar.

Here's the good word, thanks to a lovely makeup artist called Sam Powell, who taught me the secret trick to Applying Mascara to Lower Lashes.

Say Hi, Sam.

It's this: Only apply mascara to the roots of the lower lashes.

Just wiggle the wand in there for a second.

Avoid the tips like they are an invitation to nibble on a homeless man's toenails. You don't want mascara on the tips. 'Cause that's when you morph from a Sweet Girl Trying to Accentuate Her Eyes, to a Spooky Clown Woman That People Will Avoid at Parties.

Underboobs. Underdone. I don't understand.

Me: So.... Paris, you've made the cover of French Vogue.

Paris: It's hot, huh.

Me: Truthfully? No. No it's not hot. You're wearing Pamela Anderson's singlet. And no bra. You've got underboob. And your nipples are visible. And they're not nice nipples, as far as nipples go. I guess at least you've quashed any rumours about having had work done on the mamms.

Paris: I think it looks hot.

Me: See? People say you can no longer surprise, but they're wrong. That was a very surprising comment. You're normally so modest about how you think you look.

Paris: It's hot.

Me: Let's move up from your bosom, literally, and head to the face. The washed-out, grey-blue eye shadow and muted pink lip was an interesting combo, I thought. Did you not think a more glamourous approach to makeup would be suitable for French Vogue? Like some mascara for instance? You're shaking your head... No? No good? Not interested in mascara?

Paris: It looks hot.

Me: Your hair looks kind of, well, I guess brassy is the word. Don't you think?

Paris: Hot.

Me: And even a little bit... fried and dead and boofy?

Paris: Hot.

Me: Do you want to wash my car?

Paris: Hot.

Me: It's out the back. Don't forget to polish the rims.

Marge has pretty hair.

This is an image of a nice girl with Excellent Hair.

 










Here's why:

It's that elusive loose wave people like to sport when they are famous and on the red carpet.

She did it herself.

Her hair was Second Day hair (read: mildly filthy) to begin, which is why the texture is so good.

She only tonged a few front pieces (she faced the hair backwards/outways over the tong, which is why the flick goes backwards nicely like that.)

She thought she was having a Bad Hair Day.

She's one of my best friends.

I made her let me take this photo.

The other choice was the dude at Boost juice who was more pumped than a cheerleader on speed.