"It's Friday & I'm in Love" Lush

"Official" transcript of conversation with Erika on Wednesday evening:

Erika: So, you're home now. You get to do the Friday, I'm in Love post.

Me: What the hell?

E: Think of something you're in love with.

M: How about milk? I love milk. (quietly puts the cap on the milk jug and puts it back in the fridge)

E: Umm, no . . . not milk.

M: What about Ezekiel Bread . . . I really like that now.

E: Not "really like" . . . LOVE.

M: You sure you want me to do this?

E: I'm going to bed.

For two days I pondered this question . . . and came up with nothing. Sure I love: my kids, my husband, my family, my job, sitting on my fat ass doing whatever I want until August 31, drinking coffee every morning, milk (can't do milk, can't do milk). So here goes. 

Lush. Lush. Lush. I'm not admitting to a drinking problem, but if I have to be in love with anything, it has to be Lush and their smelly goodness. I think my first Lush store was in England when Bridget and Shannon lived there, but I don't really remember. Dave knew from that trip on that we would be bringing back approximately one metric ton of Lush products every time we went. The beauty of Lush is that even if you aren't looking for it, you can find it simply by following your nose. The smell is unmistakable, pungent even. On a trip to New Orleans, I once smelled the shop from about three blocks away. The Girls thought I was nuts (probably still do) until they picked up the scent, too. 

A small, small portion of the Lush stash . . . minuscule if you ask me. 

 

So what's so good about this smelly little mess that is Lush? Just about everything. They made "all natural" and "handmade" cool well before the push made it to the mass retailers. Products look more like food, which is always a plus for me. There are huge chunks of ingredients in their soaps with magical properties. Funny names like 17 Cherry Tree Lane and Goth Juice and Sonic Death Monkey either evoke childhood memories or grown-up belly laughs. Either way, you put the soap in your little wicker basket and head to the register like a modern day Dorothy clicking her heals chanting, "There's no place like Lush, there's no place like Lush."

My favorite, can't live without it product is Ultrabland, an extremely hardworking but gentle makeup remover. Smear it on (about a fingertip's worth), wipe it off in the shower with a hot washcloth, you're good for the day. It's pricey (maybe $15 for a small container) but that small container will last half a year at least and for the most part, it leaves your skin so silky smooth that you don't even need any moisturizer. I haven't met a mascara that can stand up to Ultrabland. If I know that I'm visiting some place with a Lush, I'll check my stock of Ultrabland and grab a new pot. Otherwise, I'll invent a trip to New York City to buy some.

 Attempting to distract you with your pretty hydrangeas - for which I do nothing

If you've never tried Lush, give it a go. You might not have a store near you, but chances are, you have do. About six years ago, they started to crop up in Macy's and in larger cities. I used to come home from England with duffels loaded of the potent soaps and lotions. Now, I buy what I need when I visit Erika in Columbus . . . unless it's Christmas time. Then I stock up on Snowcake, the once-a-season soap that makes you want to lick yourself all-over . . . but that might be a post for "It's Saturday & I Have a Problem."

Jill

PS - I don't love the asshole beeping his horn at me this morning when I backed out of the driveway to let my husband out; so sorry I took up 10.7 seconds of your very precious morning . . . and that I flipped you off.