Tag Archives: funny

Voya – helping us start the day over.

23 Nov

You know how sometimes changing your outfit can make you feel better. There’s nothing like a pink tulle skirt to lift my spirits. Or my wanna-be cashmere jumper with the red heart. Or a pair of shoes so gloriously high they almost tilt me over the edge I’m already teetering on.

In the same way the perfect yin to the yang of a bad day (and today was one of those days) is to shed my skin, or at least the top layer. It almost feels like starting over. Washing away the day. Hence, I’m a big fan of exfoliators.

For my face I have long favoured chemical exfoliators (such as skin brighteners containing salicylic acid), and for my body I’ve use various physical exfoliators (including exfoliating gloves, towels and scrubs). These products help shed old dead cells leaving skin dewy and smooth. Or at least that’s the idea.

However, of late, I’ve found the physical exfoliator I was using left my skin dry, so I’d reduced how often I used it and ultimately tried a new brand – Voya Body Buff (Time to Shine). I wasn’t familiar with this brand but I liked the fact that the ingredients were organic – made from hand-harvested seaweed.

The scent is certainly natural, almost sea-like but very light, and the consistency is creamy with moderate grains.

When I first lathered it on my skin I thought it was fairly similar to other exfoliators I’d used so my expectations weren’t particularly high. But after I showered and dried I noticed something which made me very happy. My skin was silk to touch without even the slightest hint of dryness. In fact I was so impressed I also used this body product on my face which yielded similar results. I’m looking forward to trying products from the rest of their range.

Price: €10

For full range see: www.voya.ie

Holding my breath for a ‘Summer’ tan in October

15 Oct

“Do you want to try our new ‘blast-tan?” inquired the beauty-salon owner, who looked like she’d just stepped off a plane from Barbados.

“I do!” I said, not fully understanding what I was getting myself in for.

The ‘blast-tan’ is a spray-on tan which involves standing naked inside a porta-potty-shaped chamber and holding your breath while spray-guns attached to various parts of the chamber shoot fake-tan onto your body, in much the same way a car is spray-painted. An alarm buzzes every few seconds to remind you to turn, or lift your arms, or shoot a leg forward. After a few minutes you will be transformed into a bronzed goddess.

The last thing the salon owner said to me before I stepped into the chamber was, “try not to breathe, hold your breath if you can because it can be a little nauseating if you inhale.”

So, I couldn’t take in oxygen while trapped in a metal chamber. No biggie. A minor last-minute disclosure. Nothing to panic about, I told myself as the door shut firmly behind me.

Something else she’d forgotten to tell me, it was quite dark inside this thing.  As I heard the motor rumbling into gear, getting ready to blast me with coloured dye I began to panic a little. For starters, what if I wasn’t able to open the door to get out?  Would anyone hear me scream?  Just then a cold liquid shot out onto my back with a lot more force than I was expecting, I glanced around and the spray-tan squirted directly into my eyes. So now even if I wanted to get out I couldn’t because I was temporarily blinded. At which point the machine started spraying my front.

Just hold on for a few more seconds I told myself, there’s no point in having the back of my body tanned and the front white, even if I am blind.  Now what did she say about turning right or was it left after the front was tanned?  Was this the point I was meant to lift my arms up? The instructions were swirling around inside my head like a jumbled mess.

I took in a much needed gasp of air. And then I knew what ‘tan’ tasted like. Blinded and choking, I decided if I was going to get out of this thing alive I had to do it now.  I fumbled around for the door handle and as I stepped out of the boot the tan-guns sprayed again sprinkling the floor outside the chamber.

I wiped my eyes and looked down at my tan. I was about 550 shades darker than before and bronzed in places you don’t need to be, however the sides of my legs and arms were still pasty white.  My ‘look’ gave a whole new meaning to the expression ‘streaky tan’ and let’s not even talk about the fact that I forgot to put on the shower-hat provided. Bronzed high-lights to match my mahogany striped skin.

I spent the next ten minutes skating around the wet tanned floor trying to clean it. Then I dressed, exited into the lobby where the salon owner admired my ‘gorgeous’ tan. I shot her one look of my blood-shot racoon eyes and she said my ‘treatment’ was on the house.

So from now on I’m just accepting that I’m from the northern hemisphere, I’m meant to be white.