Chanel @ Covent garden

Chanel store @ Covent Garden

One of the pleasures of being a girl is that I know a thing of beauty and I am not ashamed to squeal a bit when I see it. Case in point, the nail bar at the Chanel store in Covent Garden. Originally planned as a pop up store last summer, this pop up has now become a permanent fixture. During Christmas they had put up the most fabulous window decoration of huge Chanel no. 5 bottles with snow flakes. It was heavenly. during the holiday season there was a calligrapher who would write down personalised messages on cards inscribed with some of  Coco Chanel's famous quotes. I have mine tucked away in my bedside drawer, an heirloom for my unborn mini me.

So anyways, back to why this store was so brilliant for me is that it provides a whole new buying experience. You can book in different beauty sessions which are redeemable against purchase. I booked in for a nail session at £30 which included nail shaping, colour and my purchase.

Chanel Nailbar

Holiday on my nails

Le Vernis Chanel

I was also lucky to get Amanda, the most friendly makeup artist I have met in any beauty store. I happily played around with the illusion d'ombre eyeshadows and finally plonked in for a blush which was £31. Me and Amanda hit it off so well that in the end I walked away with a new mani, a new blush, travel size levres scintillantes in Amour, travel size mascara and most importantly the black Chanel camellia which is sitting pretty on my bedside table now. I will never get a personal invite to visit Coco Chanel's private apartment in Rue Cambon, so for me, this is as close as it gets to a complete experience of a brand which is the ultimate in chic. I highly recommends it.

My stash

Hair Cut and Other Stories

Since the time I adopted my roomies hair philosophy of "ghar ki kheti, ugg jayegi" I have shared a chequered history with haircuts, some good, some bad. My last hair cut could definitely be included in the book of bad. But after eight months of struggling with an awkward length, I knew that it was time to shorn off my mane. A haircut for me is a very emotional thing. I mean I look at my face in the mirror at least five times a day, and I would like to see a reflection of what I perceive to be in harmony with me: a woman, a carer, a survivor with a taste for hot chocolate. Which in non esoteric terms means a haircut I can live with and most importantly know how to style. So I started my search on the internet through recommendations made by bloggers and their readers and narrowed down on five salons. Interestingly none of them were in my city, but I didn't mind a drive if I could get what I wanted. As luck would have it, none of these five places had appointments available which were suitable for me. And this turned out to be such a blessing in disguise because in about a months time I got to make a surprise trip to London and I discovered Smiths and Tom, the only hairdresser till date who really made me enjoy the whole process of transformation with each snip.

I actually came across Smiths in a lifestyle blog but I had my doubts. Firstly, the blogger in question who obviously had her cut for free, had a lifestyle which was completely different from mine. Secondly, I didn't want to end up in a salon where I pay through my nose and end up with a hairdresser pushing their products at me. So I called them up and asked for the expertise available and the price. I know it shouldn't, but it always comes as a surprise to me when services give you what you want. Websites can sometimes be a bit misleading or intimidating with the kind of images they put up. But if you know what you want, more often than not, you can actually get what you want or at least a close approximation of it. So appointment was made and everything seemed nice and hunky dory except for the directions.

I think Smiths has a couple of branches, I went to the Soho one. And the google map directions for it is absolutely crazy. I like my directions to be old school, you know like get out at Oxford Circle station, walk straight ahead from Topshop. Landmarks include Zara, H&M and French Connection. Reach HMV, cross the road, walk up the seedy lane. End of street, grey door on the right. I understand this language, the google one of Poland Street and Regent street is just blag for me. To make it worse, for some reason I wore a skirt, in London when its raining. Fashion victim tots and my vagina was freezing. 15 minutes left for my appointment and I still can't find the damn place. Call up the salon, put on hold, finally answered by a receptionist who was as clueless as me direction wise. I ended up ambushing a couple of Polish waiters on a break. My logic was Polish waiters would know Polish Street, talk about generalisation, but I was clutching at straws. And I was right, five minutes later my trials were over. I had finally made it to my destination.

And now I finally come to the man who made all of this worthwhile, Tom. When I first walked in, I was thinking of a trim with a side fringe and some soft waves in the front. But Tom managed to talk me out of the safe style, and instead we went for a Juergen Teller overload, a bit of Hannah Holeman from Marc Jacobs Daisy ad and Daria Werbowy's Celine cut minus the braid. A shaggy chic, deconstructed shape which I could style myself. To be honest I haven't perfected it, but I am slowly getting the hang of it. Now if only I could get the guaranteed sunshine to go with my hair, this summer would be awesome.

Cleansing ritual or what I do to prevent the face going south before forty, hopefully

You know what I miss most during weekends in the UK, a bit of pampering in my local beauty parlour.  My favourite was a teeny tiny parlour in Kailash Colony called Muskaan. Come to think of it, it was actually discovered by one of my roommates Meetu- she had her pre wedding skin prep done from there. Location wise, it was a dud. A run down room with hardly any place to stand but with a proprietor who was an expert facialist. That was good enough for me and boy was it cheap. For me it was the ultimate girls world on a budget. Cleanses and facials with cheap “herbal brands” or Shahnaz Hussain, the amma of skincare in our part of the world. How much any of the so-called creams did for my skin I don’t know, but those facial massages were heavenly.

In an ideal world I would be able to get tri-annual facials at the hands of expert therapists with non mineral oil based products. But if I can’t get the therapist then the least I could do was to get good products and use my own ten fingers. And to that effect I have been using these two products for my cleansing. 

The first one is Emma Hardie Moringa Cleansing Balm which is my favourite and the other is the Alpha-H Age Delay Cleansing Oil which I reserve for days when the weather looks like this. 

Both are oil based cleansers, plant not mineral oil.  Mineral oil is Vaseline, it has its uses but you won't like to wash your face with it would you? I am bad with instructions, which means I don’t follow the usage directions given on the pack. So I always apply the cleanser on a dry skin, I feel the oils stick better to a non-wet surface. Logic right. But I do heat up the product in the palm of my hands adding a bit of water for slip. And then I massage and clean off the gunk with a facecloth. And finally a good old splash of water to round off everything and I am done. I follow it up with a toner, under eye cream and night cream. And if there are any girls reading this, do develop your own cleansing ritual. Seriously it’s the most relaxing thing you will ever do at the end of a day. And if you want any incentive, look at this clip. And be prepared for some major girl crushing. 

beach day

For some a day on the beach translates into sun, sea and sunscreen lotion. With cocktails. For me its warm waterproof jacket, wellies, hand gloves, wollen scarf and doggie stuff which ranges form poo bags and poo scooper to extendable leash and harness.

Newburgh or Forvie beach as its locally known is a popular place for seal spotting. During low tide, on a clear day you could see hundreds of seals sunning themselves in the warm sunlight. Of course the wind is at xtimes mph, but if you are bundled up enough and a dog person then maybe just maybe you would be willing to rough it up once in a while. 

In the beginning I used to feel a bit ambivalent about spending weekends on what I saw as natures pursuits. Ideally for me a weekend signalled brunch, followed by a movie. Or a good mall trawl followed by coffee. The idea is to sit smug, gloat at your purchases and secretly congratulate self on managing the whole time on most uncomfortable pair of heels. But I think I am slowly warming up to this new kind of weekend outings. Albeit with a bit of red lipstick. I mean you can't get a girl to let go her heels and makeup at the same time do you?   

The pooch cut

After my less than stellar experience with my hair cut I was quite apprehensive about any kind of grooming with scissors. Especially if they were to get near my canine son, Captain. At eight months old, my little bundle was all about the au natural look. But as he started growing up, his body hair became more dense and it was quite a task to give him his daily brushing. Very soon it came to our attention that the boy was having a major Beiber problem, too much hair action, which I suspected, obstructed his black and white vision considerably.

Plus his vet informed me, that trapped moisture in his shaggy coat could lead to infection and skin problems. And so the search began to find a good dog groomer. And let me tell you one thing, they are in short supply. Another thing that I would have considered as a profession had I known how much in demand it is. Even in a sluggish economy like the Brits. Finally cornered down one who came highly recommended and called to fix an appointment for the weekend. Got an appointment for a month later, on a working day at 9.30 in the morning, in a town 20 miles away. Turns out come Spring, all doggy owners get their pooches shampooed, trimmed and cologned for Spring. As a new mama, I was way behind schedule.

Finally the D day arrived, office leaves arranged, alarms set, doggy walks taken to prevent pooping pasties at the groomers and we were off. Once we reached V.I.P. which stands for Very.Important.Pooches. run by a lovely lady with whom I have chatted endlessly, who knows my name but I don’t know hers, I was asked about what cut I wanted.  Out came the google image of a cute dog with what I considered the best cut. Fluffy enough to look like a teddy bear with no vision compromise. But it turns out that Captain’s reluctance to get brushed coupled with my scissor happy fingers had made him patchy in some places along with the problem of his severely matted undercoat. With the male partner completely at sea with all this hair talk, it was up to the lady to take a call. And take a call I did. Off went the coat with all the matted bits and in came a dapper new young fellow with a spring in his steps. And with his scarf he looks like Dev Anand circa Guide. No?

Officially a lash ninja

My life's had its share of #funnystory, but this one really blew me off. I don't know whether its the cold, or the features in the lifestyle magazines, but I have really started getting into scented candles. It became part of my bedtime routine:  light candle, apply toner-moisturizer, read a bit and then hit the pillow. Now no matter how good a candle is, one day it is going to be at the end of its burn time. And when that happens you don't want to be picking it up in your hand to blow it out. Because sometimes, just sometimes, the bloody wick decides to go out with a bang and flames out like a phoneix and BURNS THE EYELASHES off your left eye. At first I couldn't figure out what happened. My retina was burning and there was a weird smell which was actually the smell of burnt eyelashes. Anyways I rushed into the bathroom, put my face right in front of the portable shower head and blasted off the cold water. Ten minutes later, the burning became a sting and I turned off the water, looked into the mirror and thought hmm not bad. Superficially I had a scar but Sudocream fixed that and the eyesight was still functioning. It was only the next morning when I was about to put on my mascara that I realized  I had no freaking eyelashes on one eye. I have teeny tiny eyelashes but I mean its still better than a bald eye right?  And now I am officially a lash ninja, like this guy.