Tupper-fest 2011

Posted on 17 February, 2011 by Anne

Three months ago I couldn't get someone to sell me Tupperware to save my life. Now? Well to say that I am currently swimming in a vast sea of Tupperware would be an understatement. I feel sheepish, overwhelmed, excited, baffled and yet somehow content.

Basically, I feel like I've had an affair with Tupperware.

Some time ago I wrote about the relationship between sex and Tupperware after a co-worker quite famously proclaimed: "Tupperware is what you have when you're not having sex". And after having spent close to $800** on Tupperware in the last 2 months, I can safely say – yes. Yes it is.

And can I just say, that while my ability to please in the boudoir is potentially questionable, my ability to get excited and share a love of Tupperware is undeniable.

I could sell this shit. And I could sell it well.

My affair with Tupperware culminated in a recent trip to a Tupperware sales meeting with my lovely rep Elizabeth. Not only, did I somehow manage to walk away with even more free Tupperware – I got a tour of the factory and a taste of what the company is all about. Okay, so the world of the Tupperware dealer is pretty intense, but do you know what I like about it?

Anyone can do it.

Young, old, male, (although mostly) female, single, married, pierced, tattooed – anyone. All you need is the ability to be friendly and a passion for the product.

I really, really like that. And it is nowhere near as scary as Amway.

So is it the end of the affair? Hardly. Tupperware is the kind of lover that comes and goes, but always leaves you feeling content with a renewed vigour. You know, for portioning your meals and organising your fridge.

What can I say? I'm nesty. And a Tupperware catalog is my porn.

———

**It could be worse. It could be like that weekend I accidentally spent $400 on vibrators. Although frankly it's hard to know which products have been the most useful.

The Root’n'Run

Posted on 5 January, 2011 by Anne

Today, boys and girls, I am going to share with you one of the most heinous crimes known to woman: the Root'n'run. It's not quite up there with murder and adultery, but it's way worse than coveting things and worshiping false idols.

A Root'n'run is exactly what it sounds like. A gentleman calls upon a lady, takes very brief liberties with her and then fails to return the favour. Following this, he proceeds to wash his privates in her bathroom sink, whisper falsehoods about an emergency and then runs out the door leaving the lady wearing nought but her dressing gown.

The lady, amidst extreme frustration is then forced to 'finish the job'. But even this is of limited enjoyment due to the sheer indignation caused by the gentleman's rudeness and the realization that this, dear readers, is in fact his modus operandi.

No, he wasn't shy. No, he wasn't nervous. He was just plain rude.

And it forces a young lady to ask herself – is it really so much to ask that her casual gentleman callers not only leave her feeling satisfied, but do her the courtesy of avoiding embarrassingly ridiculous lies?

And that, dear friends is the crime of the Root'n'run.

Another Chip Out of My Soul.

Posted on 13 November, 2009 by Anne

Earlier this week I was lamenting the sorry state of affairs my morning skin care regime has become. Courtesy of dermatitis and a rather judgemental dermatologist my routine now consists of a 'chemist only' cleanser and HOME BRAND sorbolene cream. Oh how I long for the days when my bathroom sink was covered with a variety of interesting and moderately expensive products. Oh how colourful and alluring they were!

Today I suffered further insult when my GP revealed that it is highly likely I am currently experiencing another dermatitis courtesy of my newly sensitive skin. The implications of this reaction are even more devastating. Indeed, it will strike to the very core of my being. This dermatitis will effect how I do my laundry.

For those of you who know me quite well, you will immediately comprehend my pain. For everyone else it is important to understand that my laundry routine is one of my 'things'. I like it done a certain way. For example, linens and towels must always be washed with a liquid soap and fabric softener. My blacks and jeans must always be washed with Radiant Black Wash. And my bras, knits and stockings must always be washed with liquid wool and delicates wash. And everything is washed with cold water.

Do not ask me to explain this. We all have our 'little ways' and this is one of mine.

So. You can imagine my inward expressions of horror and consequent spiral into despair when my GP informed me that I should switch to laundry powder for sensitive skin.

Why are you doing this to me Universe?? Why??? Every. Time. I try and show myself some special attention, be it with a new skin cream or a new fabric softener, you see fit to make my body reject it. It isn't fair. Next my acrylic nails will fall off and my hair will fall out.

Sigh. This has not been the greatest Friday the 13th.

I suppose I should look on the bright side. I suppose I still have at least one interesting element in my daily routine. I have some pretty awesome perfumes. Although I am beginning to wonder if I should start spraying them on my clothes rather than my skin.

Sensitivity is a bitch.

Simplify.

Posted on 25 September, 2009 by Anne

This is not a word a young, product-obessed woman ever wants to hear from her dermatologist. But alas, it is true. I waged war upon my skin, and my skin won. It would seem that my skin has become 'sensitive', why? Probably just a reaction to long-term use of a variety of skin products with, and I quote, "too many 'natural' ingredients" (I am not sure the use of single quotation marks accurately describes the disdain with which my dermatologist uttered the word 'natural', but you get the idea). Apparently the more whiz bang ingredients a skin cream offers, the more likely I am to react.

The answer? Keep taking antibiotics for at least a month, use a prescription ointment as a cleanser for a month then switch to Cetaphil, and use sorbolene cream as a moisturiser, but only if I absolutely have to. When I desperately asked what kind of sunscreen I could use, the dermatologist sighed, gave me the name of one and kindly drew a diagram showing which areas of the face are most commonly prone to skin cancers and advised me to only apply there. On the diagram he also drew a hat indicating that those same areas could also be protected by a broad brim.

What I did not tell him but will tell you Internet as you are significantly less judgemental, is that while he may take away my products he will never take away my awesome haircut by condemning me to hats. That, I will not stand for.

The good news? At this stage I am able to wear any eye make-up and lip colour I want. Thank. God. I am not sure I could go on living if I had to give up my OTT eye make-up on weekends. Foundation wise I have been recommended to use a particular Clinque range, but I am not, under any circumstances, allowed to let them 'diagnose' my skin as a 'combination type' and sell me a '3 step' product routine.

So here I am, practically skin product free and to the delight of my friends and collegues, in the throes of the Great Product Giveaway. Perhaps the most embarrassing thing about this process is that everytime I give away a large quantity of products, I keep finding more I need to get rid of. I shudder to think just how much it is all worth.

BUT! At least I do not have to give away any of my make-up. Phew!

As a result of the whole Skin Saga I have decided to go back on the Pill. I suspect this will mean I'll never have sex again as the minute I stopped taking it things, er, picked up. So I would just like to take a moment to curse the Universe for making me choose between sex and acne free skin. Bastard that it is.

The world had better get ready for even more sexually frustrated blogging from one Ms Anne. Yes siree.

My Lady Things.

Posted on 30 July, 2009 by Anne

Earlier this week, as I cleansed, toned, moisturised, applied medicated ointment (to my face (!!)), deodourised, scented, curled and straightened I came to a sort of realisation. I own a lot of products. Products that are specifically marketed towards women for the purposes of face, body and hair care. I often comment to people that this amazing fabulous package of hotness "doesn't just happen". And boy, that is no understatement. And since I have recently declared war on my skin and gotten a spunky new haircut (which my hairdresser craftily derived from the vague description of "spunky, sassy and a little bit rock'n'roll"), the number of products in my 'beauty arsenal' has gotten a little disturbing.

Let me set the scene. It's Saturday and I am getting ready to hit the town. From bathing to final hotness I will use, approximately, sixteen different products. And that does not include my make-up, the quantity and quality of which varies according to my mood/self-esteem levels. Or make-up removal products. Sixteen!

I cannot help but think back to my adolescence, when I spurned make-up, did not even moisturise and kept my hair in a pony-tail. I didn't even use perfume and only wore cargo pants and baggy t-shirts (hey, it was the 90s). I actually used to tell my mother off for spending so much time (and money) on make-up, telling her whole-heartedly she was beautiful just as she was and didn't need any of "that shit". My how things change in ten years.

Adolescent Anne would have been mortified at thought of what Mid-Twenties Anne has become. It's a damn good thing I am totally hot right now and can confidently construct this transformation as a journey of increasing confidence and comfort in myself both physically and emotionally. Otherwise I might be worried that I had fallen prey to all of the marketing targeting women around images of health and beauty. Thank goodness I can make this about self-development and growth and not about my vulnerability to marketing and the mass media. Phew! That's a relief.

I was recently discussing my new and incredibly complicated beauty routine with good lady friend Cara, and she mentioned that I absolutely had to let her know how the new products went. You see, like many of us ladies, Cara likes to try new things (and by things I mean products). Goodness knows I am constantly consulting the glossies, the interweb and my friends about what new and exciting products out there to try. So I have decided that as a way of 'giving back' to the body of beauty knowledge I am going to start posting weekly pieces on the various products in my 'beauty arsenal'.

It is really important to point out that I do not get anything for free. I pay through the nose for my products and any information I can give to help other ladies decide what to spend their hard earned money on I am more than happy to provide. Also, it makes me feel a little bit better about the sheer quantity of products I have no doubt spent hundreds, if not thousands of dollars on.

I will also be sharing information from the Personal Care section of my newly purchased Guide to Ethical Supermarket Shopping. Upsettingly, it turns out that most of my beauty products are produced by multinational corporations who are the spawn of Satan. But if I am doing this so that other ladies may make more informed choices, I probably need expose some of my less-than-ethical product purchases. So stay tuned for my first little review.

(this . . . is just the tip of the iceberg, baby)