Batiste Dry Shampoo: try not to look like a chimney sweep.

Batiste Dry Shampoo.

You’re supposed to use Batiste Divine Dark on greasy hair (sorry, unwashed hair) and your hair is supposed to feel clean.

Rather, it feels like you’ve put talcum powder on your head like you would’ve done back in the 90s when you didn’t have time to wash your hair for fear of missing the school bus.

However, be that as it may, when you’ve sprayed Batiste on your hair it does feel better and there is that delight which comes when you’ve got away with something you shouldn’t have done.


However, there is something you ought to know.


This particular Batiste product, ‘Divine Dark’, is a spray which is dark brown in colour. This is great because when you spray it on the top of your head the dark colour moulds into the rest of your hair.

But this is not so great when you spray and miss your head and catch your ear or the side of your face. As a result, the marks of the dark spray make you look like a chimney sweep that hasn’t washed in a week.  This is not the recommended look if you’re trying to get a bunch of teenagers to take you seriously!

So, if you use this particular product:

  1. Make sure your hair isn’t TOO dirty or unkempt. If it is, go and wash your hair before someone calls  the soap police.
  2. Make sure you don’t spray your ears otherwise people might think you have ‘hygiene issues’ and might avoid sitting next to you at work or on the train.

These are my thoughts on this hair product.

N.B These are the opinions of a curly-haired girl who has clumsy tendencies: most people probably don’t spray their ears and face when using this hair product.







Writing a book can get right up my nose!

Writing a novel can age you by ten years and can add ten pounds to your waistline.

When you start to write a novel you want to bury your head in a big bag of Haribo at the thought of writing  80,000 words from scratch.

Plus, sometimes you read over your last chapter and you realise that although your main character had started the conversation with his mum in the living room, somehow they are both now in the garage with different clothes on, and different hairdos.  So back you go through the pages, raking through the mistakes, effing and blinding like a grumpy old man who has found a load of cat turds on his front lawn.

Even though you have read and reread your scribblings several thousand times and YOU THINK there should be no more mistakes, some little ungrammatical blighter will show up. At this point you’ve eaten your weight in hobnobs and you’re seriously considering lobbing that laptop out the window.


And sometimes your plot is going SO WELL until you realise that your character ‘would never do that’ or that the baddie isn’t all that bad, after all.  This can lead to a plot change and a plot change can generate so much fear that one’s bowels can even get a bit ‘trembly’.  In extreme cases new underwear is needed.

So if you’ve started your novel I hope it’s an enjoyable experience and the above does not apply to you.

And, hopefully, your underwear remains clean at all times.



Why you should treasure your friends who don’t have kids

We should treasure all friends because they keep you going, give you a hug and can grasp what you are and what you’re about.

But that friend who doesn’t have kids is the one who looks out for you from a different angle. And they’re the ones we often forget.

They mother you (in that affectionate way): they have the solution to your hayfever problems, they’re the one who notices that you sit too closely to the steering wheel; and they’re the one who distracts your class while you hunt frantically for 30 reports that you’ve stashed somewhere.

They just have your back in a way that your other mummy friends just don’t have the time to.

Plus, they don’t talk about their children; they talk about how you and her can have fun. They don’t discuss the naughty step or Sats results; they organise nights out and tell you gossip.



No matter what your age,  they make you feel young. And a friend who does that is worth all the antiwrinkle cream in the world, because a friend like that can make you laugh your head off!

And laughter is a treasure, so treasure that friend.


Men- embrace a groomed face…

Here is what we should all embrace. Idris Elba is certainly a groomed face!

Men – Embracing a Groomed Face

How time can turn you into a tit

Last time we were down the park I wanted to do a cartwheel.

And what’s wrong with that?

Nothing, except I am 36, the park was packed and I didn’t care one jot that my friend filmed it.


Plus, my cartwheel was a bit naff: it was an arms crooked, knees bent, kinda cartwheel. The sort that would make a gym teacher grimace.




It clearly shows I still need to grow up.

Or get a life.

Either way, I know my cartwheel days are over.

Still, it’s no matter. When I see my niece I’ll just have to borrow her skipping rope.

Growing up is far too boring.

Long live fun, laughter and dodgy cartwheels.

So what the devil have I been up to?

I have not written a blog post in a long while and it’s because, in January, I went back to work. I had to use all my mental powers to rev up the old brain, again, so that I could piece together a coherent sentence. Since I’d become a mum I feared that the only thing my brain could discuss was the cbeebies T.V schedule- in my interview I was convinced I was going to talk about the ‘Twirly-woos’. However, thankfully, I’ve proved to the world and myself that my brain IS still there and I’ve managed to keep the old job down and even enjoyed it!

It feels good to know you still have your brain.

Although, Ofsted might come soon and knowing the dangers that can unfold when I open my huge drawbridge of a gob I feel a small, dark cupboard might be the best place to go. For the safety of the school I might have to furrow into the depths of the broom cupboard and hibernate.

However, if Ofsted don’t come, I can try and write some more posts. It’s great to write for ‘Crème de la Bride’ magazine but there’s nothing like your own blog to spill all those silly thoughts and ramblings.

Thank you for being a wonderful listener of stupidity and nonsense. Carry on reading my blog and I won’t let you down. 😉

All my best wishes,


(The Curly Essex bird)

P.S My three year old daughter took the photograph of this carnation (I think it’s that!) and so I had to put it up. 🙂

Who would’ve thought I could talk about beauty?

I’m now a beauty writer for ‘Creme de la Bride’ digital magazine.

Here is my first article:

Will we ever be happy in our own skin?

Will We Ever Be Happy In Our Own Skin?


I hope you enjoy it. 🙂

Four Things Tag

This post made me smile. I hope you smile too…

Jenny in Neverland

I’ve been stuck for blog post ideas. Like, really stuck. But I figure, you can’t go wrong with a trusty “tag” post, can you? I pinched this one of Danielle from Underland to Wonderland (who’s blog is fantastic, by the way!) and it’s called the “Four Things Tag” where, unsurprisingly, you name four things under each category. So lo and behold, here are my answers!

Four Jobs I’ve Had

1) Sales assistant at Primark. Loosely translated to: Chatting to friends all day and having sock fights.
2) Optical assistant at Vision Express. Loosely translated to: Cringing as you take photos of people’s retinas.
3) Voluntary teaching assistant. Loosely translated to: I don’t like kids. Why am I even here?
4) Admin assistant at my mum’s work. Basically getting my travel for free and eating all day.

Four Things I Don’t Eat

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Be a Beck: Parenting Advice from The Grammys

Are You Finished Yet?

Perhaps the hardest part of parenting is figuring out how to ensure your children don’t grow up to be a-holes. Finding a hiding place to scarf down a bag of Cheetos before they sniff you out and ask you to share is a close second, but I digress. In our house, we follow the very simple yet effective motto of “don’t be a jackleg,” born from my father’s term for various plagues on society. We like to point out jackleg moves, then tell the kids to do the opposite: See that lady texting and driving? She’s a jackleg. If you ever do that, you’ll be a big fat jackleg. Don’t do that. So far, it has provided them with a pretty solid set of parameters for how not to act. But I worry we focus on the negative a little too much. My discipline repertoire could really use some positive…

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