fruitybeauty

Autograph red lips.

Hey, check out my sweet wig.

Wow, Gwen, that wig sure is sweet.

And do you like my glasses? Gav said they make me look real 70s. Do you like them?

Sure. They're pretty hip, I guess. You're a fox, what can I say.

And my skin? Do you like my shiny plastic skin? My Harajuku girls sure liked it. They tried to lick my arm. They're so crazy. They love plastic. And me. I kind of made them really hot.

The skin's a bit creepy, to be honest.

Oh. Well what about my signature red lips? Are they good?

They're great. Know what? You can actually upgrade to autograph red lips.

Hey cool, thanks. Necklace? Good? Do we like it?

Sure. Nice. Oooh, I get it, it's G's, like as in Gwen. But... you're kind of ripping off Givenchy's logo, aren't you?

It's my design. MINE.

Kay cool.

Do you think I look 70s enough? I was worried I wouldn't. And i really need to start a new fashion trend. It's a game I play with myself: How many people can I make follow my off beat new look. Gav suggested I wear a flower or peace tattoo but I thought that was a bit OTT.

Probably a good choice.

Is it strange, do you think, that since I was photographed for the first time in my entire solo career looking like Ratwoman the other week, that i've worn this wig every single time i've stepped out?

Naaaah.

Cool. Hey you're a real friend, you know that?

Thanks Gwen. That's real neat of you to say.

Cool.

Hey Gwen, can I have those glasses when you're done?

Pharrell gave me these.

That's cool, I've got Glen20. I can clean them real good.

Can I give you a L.A.M.B bag instead?

Pfft, they were nasty and you know it.

Sorry.

Glasses.

But, but I like them...

GLASSES.

Okay, okay. Sorry.

And leave the wig, too.

But, but...

WIG.

I'm leaving. You're mean!

Sure. Run away Gwen. Run like you always do.

I hate you!

Givenchy's gonna sue your ass. Hope Gavin's ready to get a jo-ob...

Slam.

Ghettoez, version 2.0

Mmmm, can you smell that?

Smells like... like....a whole lotta  fureaky!

Man. Can you imagine these tangerine talons affectionatly rubbing up against you under the doona at night? Woh! There's a 15-inch section of shin-skin gone that you probably needed. And the noise! Incredible! Toes like that don't roam silently! Oh no, they're tap-tap-tapping all throughout the house, just like your dog does when it needs its nails clipped, only you can't just barrel up and grab a Ghetto Toez girl and prop her on your knee and clip her like you can Fido. Uh-uuuh. She'll straight out whoop yo ass, fool.

*Thank you, Oliver for showing me the way to these bone-thugs-and-hamony-ified Ghetto Toez.
I just hope they're not yours.
Nice sandals if they are.

Ash-blonde Ashley no more

A sad day in the fruit bowl: Another of the great Blonde Hair Icons has bitten the proverbial.

(Hint: The first one was that Justin Timberlake's girlfriend; the second is That Really Famous Skinny Girl who Rachel Zoe has just publicly declared she no longer works with, or is friends with. She was getting too fat, apparentely. Kidding. Inappropriate. Apologies.)

Ashley Olsen has flipped the script on us all and gone dark. This, from a girl who consistently sports not only the best

Texture
Cut
Length
Fringe

but also shade-of-blonde. (At least she had the decency to tint her Definitely Excellent Eyebrows to the same shade.)

Kanye believe it??
(Yes, he did. But can YOU?)

At least Mary-Kate's still rocking the wild witch of the upper east with her faded red 'stensions.

Y'know, i'm all for brunettes. And i'm all for colour switching and getting a little bold at the salon. But it's just so TYPI-FRICKEN-CAL: The nanosecond (month) I go blonde, all the frisky perennial light-haired lassies start buying DIY dye kits and going chocolate and mahogany and chestnut and other descriptive words that belong to people like Ashley Judd, and Rachel Bilson and Angelina Jolie and Charlie Sheen. NOT. THEM.

They'll be back.
It's just a winter thing.
You watch.
Soon they'll be brassier than a bathroom tap.
And i'll be waiting for them with a smile.
And a box of Root Touch Up.

Gone Daddy Gone

The Estee Lauder Blockbuster that is.

Sold out in two weeks, I've just been informed by the CSTFF (Cosmetic Sales Task Force, Force)

And while I'm sure some schmuck is currently selling it (sans three of the lipsticks) on eBay, i think you're better off sloping in and finding yourself something else Wonderful and Valuealicious from Estee or one of her cosmetic floor comrades, like a good little gift monkey.

Because you know what they say about buying things on eBay...

You don't?

I thought you would for sure.
No, no, I don't know, I was relying on you!

Well, this is awkward.


I'll get my coat.

Cosmetic houses at Christmas: Drugged and vulnerable.

I went and man-handled some overpriced designer shoes in DJs yesterday, and guess what I discovered.

The shops are already heaving with nannas and mummas and our frustrated office brethen, hopelessly trying to find something for Aunty Joan, and their sister in law, and their brother and their five-year-old's kindy teacher, all looking glum and tired and standing on the wrong side of the escalators, walking too slowly around racks of underwear and being pains in the asses in general.

Bless them in their gift-buying stupor. And yes, I can laugh at them because i have not yet joined them. [That happens next week.]

But why are they on the shoe level?
Why are they on the designer clothing level?
EVERYONE KNOWS YOU DON'T BUY PEOPLE SHOES OR CLOTHES FOR CHRISTMAS.

And the sad thing is that they don't even realise their work is done for them as soon as they walk through those department store gates. That's right: Once you enter any DJ's or Myer, you are in the double-helix of the great present buying answer: The cosmetics floor.

What more would Uncle Roger want than some Polo Black and a dirty calendar he can put up in the Garage?

What else would little Sally want than Posh Spice's new perfume, a tube of gloss and a reminder that eating disorders aren't cool and neither are breasts that think they are actually part of the collar bone?

And how much would mum love your ass (Hint: she already does, a lot, so you're pretty ripe for at least an 85% percent total score here) if you gave her the WHOPPING great Estee Lauder Blockbuster make up bonanza kit sent from the Lord himself??

Which brings me to My Point: You should be buying stuff for you here, too.

Here's why:

Following the great Estee's lead, most cosmetic houses now offer stupidly excellent value christmas packs.

And it ain't just the smelly stuff being spliced in between body lotions anymore, (though the perfume packs are superb, cause you get limited edition gear like roller balls for your handbag, shimmer oils and matchbox trucks that sport genuine reverse beeps when you roll them backwards) it's everything from:

- Skin care, including expensive face creams that you normally feel are our of your price range.

- Body stuff

- Bloke's skincare

- Makeup (the gloss sets are MUST BUYS and yes, CAPS need to be used here, because, okay, say you buy the Juicy Tubes one; you're getting three for, like $69 or something, when one by itself is usually $42.) And so on.

Think of this way: the cosmetic companies were all drugged with Generophnyl when they put these packs together. TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THEM IN THEIR VALUE-CRAZED STUPOR.

So, here's what you're gonna do; here's your new, revised Christmas shopping to-do list. (Remember: Baby Jesus would want it this way.)

1. Make a date to do your shopping within the next week before all the good sets sell out; and they will. Also, doing your shopping before it gets feral is always a clever idea. Don't be like, well, all of us, and leave it to 2.36 pm on December 24.

2. Buy the skincare, makeup and perfume you've been eyeing off yourself. Score buckets of free stuff and feel smug and pretty in advance.

3. Buy everyone else soap from the two dollar shop.

The fastest blow you've ever had.

You'll get it with a Tourmaline barrel brush.

I thought ceramic brushes were good, but golly gosh balls!

I've been using Brushworkx's new one (their spelling, not Fruity's), and I swear, it takes me about a third of the time to blow dry my hair compared to my now seemingly neanderthal days using a boar bristle or nylon brush.

All i ask is that you try one.

Confused? Are these words and names hurting your eyes and making your brain vomit and seize in panic and confusion?

It's simple, as my fun colour and font size indicates:

If you have wet hair and want a really fast blow dry and no static, use a ceramic/thermal or tourmaline hair brush. A round one. You pick the size. (Bigger means more volume.)

Like this:

If you just want to groom or smooth your hair, or get a really sleek finish to your blow dry, use a boar bristle, nylon, or ball-tipped paddle brush. A flat one.

Like this:

There. See? It's only Monday morning and you've already got something to tell the girls at After Work Drinks on Friday, just as soon as Jemma has finished telling that story about her wench of a flatmate who stole her last Lean Cuisine, 'cause like, when she got home from personal training and was totally counting on eating it for dinner, she discovered the bitch had STOLEN it, and not replaced it. I mean, who DOES that? Bitch.

The Duff's perfume: Iz nayce.

Sniffed out Hilary's perfume yet? No? FOOL.

The Products You Need To Have At His Place.

This is in response to Sara B's question, re-produced here for your viewing ease:

"I rocked up at boyfriend's for the evening straight from work and had forgotten my glorious face products. So my questions are, if I don't have...

a) face wash

Do I use soap? Or is using nothing but water better than using soap?

b) moisturiser

Do I use body moisturiser? Or is using nothing better than using body moisturiser?

Obviously to avoid such a travesty again I will be purchasing some boyfriend-housed products, but rather than keep a second helping of my ridiculously priced moisturiser at his nest, can you recommend a cheap but good (is there such thing) moisturiser?"


GOLLY. Do I know that one! I mean, who hasn't been in THAT situation? Really? Who hasn't? I tell you, it takes me back to the days I used to hook for cash - always finding myself in some strange man's home or car with out so much as a hydrating serum or firming eye cream to be seen!

I'm kidding. Mum, put down the phone.

But back to Sara B. Best I tackle this one question by question. And it hurts, it really does. I hate this vision of a pretty little banana in a Stinky Boy's Bathroom, tears slowly welling because she can't wash and moisturise her face.

First of all, your first move should always be to find his face wash/scrub and moisturiser, and use that. Just have a poke around, every man has at least some Nivea for men behind all of those bottles of Brut and Blue Stratos and that container of Xanax.

He doesn't even have that??

Man, his fur lap-lap and ability to lob women with clubs must have been really impressive to get you back to his place.

May I suggest you a) find a new a boyfriend, one who has enough SELF RESPECT to look after his skin, or, b) brace yourself for a beauty routine that even prisoners of war would reject.

Okay. So there's no face wash. Hmmm. Try to avoid soap at all costs, not only has that thing been lovingly rubbed all over his, you know, dangly bits, but it's so so harsh for your skin. Check if it's Dove - unlikely, but excellent if it is - then ,if not, go for the hand wash. If it's soap free, get a small amount on a towel and gently clean your face, avoiding the eye area like it were a rabid mosquito. If he has no face wash or hand wash, you're gonna have to deal with water and, uh, water. Orsoapifyou'rereallydesperate.

Okay. Moisturisation.

Body lotion is not good; it's much harsher than face gear and has stronger portions of fragrance and so on. If he has something plain like Sorbelene or vaseline cream, use that. (By the sounds of it, he's more likely to have a fully grown Cheetah.) Again - no eye areas.

Alright, that's that sorted. Now here's your: Don't Want To Spend Much Shopping List for His Place

Facial wipes. Neautrogena's are grouse.

Eye make up remover wipes. So worth buying - because you can't use your face wipes to remove that crazy eye liner, doll. Swisspers do excellent cheap ones, as do Almay (Make sure you get the oil free Almay ones.)

Face wash. I like Olay Blemish Effects or Elizabeth Arden Green Tea three-in-one.

Moisturiser. Go for Garnier, Olay or Neutrogena.

Too cheap? Too lazy? Don't think you'll be heading back to that particular guys' place?

You need the MAGICAL PRODUCT THAT DOES EVERYTHING:

And as usual, it's (organic) Rosehip oil.

You can keep it in your handbag (small, efficient, gets on well with mobile phones) and use it as a cleanser (with wet face cloth), an eye cream, face cream and even massage it on as a quick facial if you're drunk and fear hang over skin. And it won't piss your skin off either - it's anti-irritant and works just as well on oily skin. Brilliant.

Hope that helps, Sara B.

Kindest,
Fruity B.

Wrongstensions.

Fruity: Say... your hair got real long, real fast... do you... do you have extensions, Spearsy?

Spearsy: Say what? Do I hayve extensions? Pfft. Don't make me LAYUFF. HA!

Fruity: Oh you... I didn't think so! Cause you know that really obvious extensions are ROTTEN, right? Especially when it looks like your hair starts at the ears from the front... and when you pull all your hair forward any minger can see the bonds burrowing all over your scalp... and you haven't bothered to get a good cutter to blend the hair in... or razor the tips so it looks like real hair...

Spearsy: Uh-aah. Not me. This hair's aaaall mahne.

Fruity: Thank God.

Ghetto Toez

As far as i'm aware, there is no advertisement for this product yet.

But if there were to be one, i envisage it may go a little something like this...

...Playa-hatas talkin jive 'bout your naystee feet?

Yo headz up: They be stoppin' their bullshieet when they see yo Toez. They be like, yo, whas up with yo feet? And the suckaz start flexin an talkin' all kinda wack shieet.

And you be like, yo check this, don be gettin' all up in mah grill bout my fresh toez. You straight-out trippin dawg, cause you and yo homes ain't got none-o-that shieet.

You jus jealous muthas, what wit yo lame-ass polish with no bling all decoratin an representin.

Hell, I bet you still paintin' yo toes, fool! You may have time for that shieet, but only spare time i ev gon' have be when i in the grave, suckaz.

Stick-on till I dizz-iy, fool. Hollaaaa!

Toez.

'Cause you be straight-bangin' hardcore badasses to tha end, and you need yo feet to look the dang part.

An we OUT.