Tuesday, 12 June 2007


So i realised that i haven't showered in about three months. Okay, okay, so we don't HAVE a shower here in our London flat (sympathy cards may be sent forthwith) but rather a bathtub with a long bendy hose and we sort of make do with that. This was our dream flat you see, and 5 years ago when the estate agent showed us round this property we naively turned a blind eye to the implications of purchasing a showerless, overpriced abhode. In the winter, this isn't such a big problem, for there is nothing so soothing as a decadently-bubbled lavender-scented bath to soak away the harsh British winter chill from ones' bones. However in summer, this isn't such an appealing prospect, and instead a rather awkward posing in a slightly too small bathtub is undertaken with an efficiency that is neither pleasurable nor indeed comfortable.
This brings me to my point that i haven't even BATHED in two days. Given the recent heatwave this realisation both disheartens me and fills me with mild disgust. For someone who loves to soak in fragrant water, slather on creamy divine-smelling lotions, and go to bed smelling like a rose in a flower-patch, my current schedule of cleaning, caring and robotic-like domestic manoevers leave little in the way for self-pampering. I of course still manage to keep up with my daily application of prettily-packaged cosmetics and even manage to run a brush through my hair now and again, but the actual logistics of jumping into a tub on a daily basis still escape me.

For starters the boys are NEVER both asleep at the same time. Given that Egg loves nothing more than 'naming-and-washing' my various body parts when he happens upon me in the bath, my best bet is to wait till his afternoon nap. However given that Noah is now completely mobile and crawls around rooms faster than a slug on speed, I can't very well have a bath with him on the loose...especially given the fact that there are three different sets of stairs in our current dwelling!

For this reason, I have had to let my personal hygiene standards slip a notch or two - and make do with several daily applications of extra-strength anti-perspirant and random sprays of Agent Provocateur when I remember (my signature scent...terribly ironic given my current state of play i realise, but what can you do...).

I wonder if this recent fall from utter cleanliness means that a life of 'Slob-dom' awaits me. Will I be venturing out for my weekly grocery shopping in trackpants next? Will I replace regular toothbrushing for sucking on small sugary mints? Will my vast make-up collection lie undisturbed in the future and be allowed to congeal and go off...until only a multi-coloured glob of overpriced congealants remain??

Not likely. I'll continue to hold on to some semblance of 'glam' for as long as I can, for a lipgloss is not just a sticky substance used to attract admiring glaces from the opposite sex. No, it is much more than that. It is a signifier of a deeper state of being...a pre-childcare, vixen, carefree, 'ME' place. It's MY 'somewhere over the rainbow'. Now I've just got to find those damn ruby slippers....i know I saw them somewhere....

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