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1. Fruity is aware this is un-PC.
2. I went all Beta and sent this to some friends. They enthused its being shown with exaggerated "LOL" type sentiments.
3. I have had this exact experience too many times not to post this.
4. My nail place? It's called Lena's Lovely Sydney Nail.
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Oh, here you are.
Good boy.
Let's see what they've done with you this year...
Very Good Hair, Rachel. The lush, thick, curly underpin is my current favourite updo. (See Jennifer Lopez - on another blog, no room for her here with that bouffant - for how to get this wrong.) Also, see the flash of caramel on the tips? That be hair painting, and that be cool.
Oh, yes, good show, GP. Soup-herb red lip (the shade of the night) and excellent showcase of The New Straight Hair (straight and sleek, but with some mongrel about it.)
Yum, yum, yum, shakin' fingerwaves at the sun. Naomi, you little fox, you always nail your hair and makeup. Fruits: Know that 40s glamour scorches. Always. Shoot anyone that disagrees. (Very 40s to shoot people.)
Reese, your hair is long. Brutal shade of blonde, very saucy, but very long - did you know that? And um, well, the heavy fringe and then all one-length thing is dwarfing you a little... Because, well, I don't want to be the one to say it, but a hairstyle with heavy, straight lines accentuates... yourkindofveryprominentchinandjawarea.
Emily? No. It's either up, or down, or a decent shot at half-up-half-down, or it's curly, or straight. YOU CAN'T HAVE IT ALL. 
Nickers, look at you! Wooo-ho-hooo! Red and ready for ACTION, eh? You could drive a man to drink - or to write a sad country and western song - looking this hot after years of vomity greens and dank blacks. One teeny thing Madam K: Remember the rule about when there's lots going on around the neck, halter necks especially, we put the hair up so to keep the look clean, not cluttered? You disobeyed it. A lot.
Ah Helen. Twas your Night of Nights, and your hair and makeup pitched in for the gift. Look at that sleek bob with all of that shine and movement. But, but, she's grey, you say, without thinking I can hear you. Uh-UH, amigo - that's white-blonde-silver-hot-so-good. (Technical term.) And the makeup! So fresh, and pretty and flattering and age-appropriate and non-Queen like. She's sliced off 20 years with her mop and mug work! Amazing! Although if the whole world knew me as a withered old Corgi owner, I'd be wanting to look a third of my age, too. I'd also be seen smoking and drinking from a hip flask at every chance. And swearing a lot probably, too.
Thank you to News Corp for the pics. Well done, guys. Sterling camera work.
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Fruits, don't drop the beauty ball just cause it's Monday.
Yeah, it's cloudy and rainy, and you accidentally stayed up way too late watching a re-run of The Mask of Zorro, and you know you should've gone for a run, but you didn't, and you pressed snooze 24 times, and so you were running late, and you didn't feel like washing your hair, nor making an "outfit" so you're just wearing that top you wore last week but managed to not spill food on and that fail-safe skirt that probably needs it's hem re-sown, but you figure you'll just snap off any loose threads as they scrape creepily against your legs, and of course, in the great scheme of all of this Monday circus, applying pretty makeup is roughly as high up on your priority list as buying new sunglasses is on a leopard seals.
But I beg you, don't neglect your beauty routine today... We need you.
On a day when universally everyone feels like shit - Glen from accounts aside, but everyone knows he's on uppers - slapping on a feisty orange lip gloss... or doing a bit of brown and copper eyeshadow business... or doing a rockabilly quiff and a red lip... or wearing a cute headband with a bit of a wild backcomb behind... or going for a nearly-the-end-of-summer bronzed face with a bit of liner and some nude gloss, is EXACTLY WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS ON A MONDAY.
People will feel happy and impressed when they see your pretty lips on the bus.
They will be invigorated by your clever hair in the coffee line.
Dazzled by your fabulous shadow blending in the tea room.
And of course, you will feel splendid. (It's been proven by 4 out of 5 fictional scientists that when you look good, you feel better.)
So don't put off putting effort in until Wednesday, or Thursday because by then you've gotten used to working again after two measly days off, and you're in routine again, and plus, it's after-works drinks night.
Put in effort today and make everyone - you included, nay, you ESPECIALLY - feel happy and fun.
If you read this and put in even the effort of brushing on some blush, or combing that nest of bed head out (two-year olds are not exempt from this post), or even just taking off your pajamas and putting on Real Life clothes, I want to know about it.
Hit me a with a comment, or better yet, email me a photo for all the fruits to see.
Here, Scarlett demonstrates her Make An Effort Monday look. Notice the use of Fun Clip, and Bright Lip - two of the more well-known Make An Effort devices.
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This is from an article in the Daily Telegraph yesterday I want to share with you. It's not about Bec Cartwright, or taxi drivers, or even a woman with 45 cats in her backyard, it's actually VERY SERIOUS FOR ALL OF US.
It reads: (...it actually probably doesn't read, as you need eyes and a brain for that, and it's just a bunch of words, but that's how the saying goes)
New regulations on carry-on luggage designed to combat the terror threat will restrict the type of cosmetics Australians can take on international flights.
Federal laws will come into force next month banning liquids, gels or aerosols from being taken on board in containers greater than 100ml.
Passengers will be required to pack their essentials in one zip-lock clear plastic bag no greater than 1 litre in capacity – and stow everything else in checked baggage.
It follows a crackdown on airports in the UK and US in August last year, with fears a new generation of liquid explosives could be mixed in plane bathrooms and then detonated.
Bottles of water, canned drinks, large tubes of toothpaste, full-sized deodorants, large tins of hairspray, tubs of face cream and large tubes of foundation will also be banned.
THE HORROR!
However, in a boost for airport shops, passengers can buy these items once clear of the checkpoint.
THE GALL!
The Department of Transport and Regional Services has been liaising with community groups – in particular the Cancer Council – to make sure sick people are not discriminated against. The Daily Telegraph understands security staff will be instructed to allow some leeway – including not insisting women who have had a mastectomy remove a silicon gel bra, and not denying access to people with colostomy bags.
Ohhhh, how generous!
The department has released a list of banned items ahead of the program's roll-out by Deputy Prime Minister Mark Vaile at the APEC transport ministers conference next month.
"The world has changed over recent years and Australia's security arrangements need to change accordingly," Mr Vaile said. "The Australian Government recognises these restrictions will affect the industry and the travelling public but we will always put the public's safety first."
What about the skin? WHY WON'T SOMEBODY THINK OF THE SKIN?!
Following is a list of stupid, unnecessary things they are banning in an effort to make us look rubbish when we get off a plane:
Any liquid, gel or aerosol in a container greater than 100ml/100g will be banned on international flights after March 31. This includes:
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This man is not Boyfriend. This is Random Man.
But like Random Man, Boyfriend had a serious sweating issue.
Every time he got nervous, gosh, them pits would POUR.
So there he is right, ready to go out, all styled up, wearing expensive clothes made by our Italian friends, shiny shoes with boxy toes, looking slicker than a rat with a gold tooth.
Just before he pulls up to the party/wedding/bar, the patches would appear. By the time he'd walk inside, nervous and anxious because crowds can do that to people sometimes, they'd be dotting up the middle of his back; they'd be centre stage on his chest, but mostly, they'd be under the arms. Pools of dark damp, ruining the shirt and effectively his evening.
He took to standing in corners.
He wore certain colours and prints (not Hawaiian, thank you) that he knew wouldn't show the sweat patches so much.
He'd go to the bathroom and stand in a toilet with folded toilet paper under each arm telling his sweat glands to pull their head in so he could enjoy his night.
But it didn't matter. The boy would still sweat.
"Should get some Botox in your pits" I said nonchalantly one day as I ate a sandwich and he explained his ongoing saga.
"Why? Botox why?" His voice was irritable, his eyes hopeless and disbelieving.
"Cause it blocks the sweat glands from producing sweat. I know people that get it on their palms, too. Can you please pass the juice?"
"What do you mean it stops the sweat glands?" His eyes were crazed, his voice was sharp, and I was getting thirstier by the second.
"I mean what I said. You should get it. Costs nearly a grand, but I think it lasts nearly a year. Juice please?"
"So they insert needles of Botox under my arms, and I simply don't sweat anymore? Really?"
"YES. JUICE. NOW."
And off he went to The Clinic in Bondi Junction. And they shaved under his arms and put in lots and lots of needles (which is why it cost $900) and he stopped sweating under there. And that was two years ago. (He goes back about every 10 months for more.) And now he never ever sweats and can wear even grey t-shirts on the hottest of days without a slither of fear.
He said I could write "It literally changed my life" but I said don't be lame, that's so Good Morning Australia.
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Oh yeah, it's SO time to talk about them sweaty, stenchy little pits of the arm, cause flying fig juice, have I had enough of body odour for today. (Bus. Packed. Loud. Hot. Rush hour. Man in "Genuine Versachee" polyester suit seated next to me. Stench so bad and sweat patches so visible the Yarra looked like a godamn puddle in comparison. Sad Fruity. Nasally offended Fruity.)
Okay.
Here's part one of this stinky little saga.
Fruity's first tip for the pits.
If your underarms sweat like a juiced-up body-builder, consider this (pretty revolting) little trick. Stick a Ladies Sanitary Pad (the real thin, new-style ones are best) on the inside underarm seam of your jacket. They are frightfully absorbent, and just the thing to soak up all that salty skin juice. Of course, this gem of a solution works best if you are a lady and thus are not wearing anything with sleeves under the jacket, and have access to said Ladies Sanitary Pad. However, if you are A Man, and you know what a Ladies Sanitary Pad is, and where your lady keeps them, (check the bathroom cupboard or knickers draw. That's if you live together. If you don't live together, STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM BOTH THOSE AREAS, PAL), do the jacket trick, or stick one on both inside underarm seams of your business shirt/t-shirt if you have a Big Meeting today, or it's 47 billion degrees, or the humidity rivals Singapoo, or you're a generally sweaty dude.
Hey, I know it's a little creepy, but it's a lot effective. And that pretty much cancels creepy out on this occasion. (Creepy usually wins. He'll be pissed-as.)
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I thought going from blonde back to dark would be heinous.
Was last time, gosh. Required filler. Hours of salon time. Semis. Was too dark. Was a vampire-y block colour better suited to a recalcitrant teen goth. Faded to poo green. Vomit.
But of course, after years of being dark, I forgot all that when I dipped back into the pool of light again.
See, when I went to get my foul regrowth done yesterday, I thought, hey, be bold, go REAL blonde. I'd seen a picture of Cate B looking delicious with her platinum locks and felt all inspired, right? So, cause I was down in Melbourne learning about L’Oréal Professionnel salon colour, I decided that their Platinium (lightening) range would be perfect. Gives incredible blonde but conditions too, so you're not left with brassy straw after a week or so of styling, tonging, swimming, living. Yes, please.
"No chance," said Caterina Di Biase, Heading Out Hair and Beauty’s Artistic Director, General Colour Queen and finalist in Australian Hairdresser of the Year 2007. "Unless you want your hair to fall out."
Um, no. Plus, I'm not bold (insane?) enough to shave it like You Know Who if it all goes wrong.
See, I'd kind of forgotten about all the Ionic straightening I had in there. Topped with masses of highlights. And lots of swimming. And tenacious ghd work.
Slump. Sigh. Pout.
"Well, I was kind of thinking of getting back to healthy natural brown for winter..."
"Excellent idea. We'll use Richesse de Diacolor, it's a tone on tone so there's no ammonia, which is good for damaged hair like yours... and then I'll do some words words words, words words words, words words words."
Few hours later? Hello Nice Natural Brown with some golden, Daria-type flecks. You look lovely. Won't you stay for tea?
But how? HOW, you say? Isn't the rule when going light to dark filler, then dark semi?
Clearly no. Which is GREAT NEWS for all you cats looking to slip into something a little more comfortable for the colder months.
Aside of the product she used, here's the secret-y, clever thing she did: Left some of my highlighted bits out when she applied her wild concoction of coloured genius. So, when it was all rinsed off and gone, I had a gentle brown, and some gold fun throughout. All in one easy sitting. Ahhhhh.
I hope blondes don't really have more fun.
This blog'll be screwed.
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Just a quick beauty note I felt I needed to remind a few of you about, as I did it several, nay 456 times, over this very hot weekend. Without being asked to, of course.
Your face.
Does not.
Stop.
At your chin.
"Oh, I've totally got sunscreen on all over my face" you said to me triumphantly as we stood on the esplanade and the sun shone down like a demon and your chest beamed at me, screaming for help against it's mortal enemy, the one that would age it, and wrinkle it, and leather-ise it, and not be able to be helped by Sir Botox or any of its mates.
Point: Whatever you put on your face, please also put it on your neck and chest. Sunscreen, and face cream. (Maybe buy a cheaper one just for your neck.)
Why? For as long as you live, you will wear clothes that reveal these two things as much as your face. And you can get as much work done to your face as you like - ever heard of a chest-lift? Exactly - and spend billions on the finest creams to ever be constructed for it too, but your neck-n-chest will always, always whisper the truth.
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This post stems from the one below in which I foolishly failed to talk about the gloss itself.
Here goes: I like Nivea's Caregloss & shine. I especially appreciate their new tinted versions, which were delivered along with buff dudes. It's balmy but shiny, making it good when your clutch is teeny and you know you'll want a balm and a gloss, but barely have room for a tampon and your keys let alone TWO lip products.
In fact, I even choose to keep it in my handbag at the moment, which as you fruits already know, is less handbag, and more a depository for Every Type of Makeup Available, (as well as sugar sachets and coins that aren't two or one dollar coins and therefore are USELESS to me when getting on the bus in the morning).
Here are its handbag friends today:
Yes, I know it's obscene how many I carry around, but I'm so far from alone in this filthy habit, so shut it. Also, THIS IS A GOOD DAY FOR ME. There has been up to 14 weighing down my bag in the past.
But enough about me: Which glosses are in your handbag today?
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