THING: Lip balm
If, like me, you have lips dryer than an iguana’s arse, then you will probably own loads of rancid lip balms that live in every coat, bag and drawer - but there’ll always be one that you can’t live without. Last week, I lost my favourite lip balm in the back of a taxi and since then I have mourned it every day. It was great - smooth, soothing, a bit vanilla, but in a good way. We had some fun times in some particularly dry environments and I miss him dearly - so much so that I’m thinking of starting the Mario Badescu memorial garden, with a bench in the shape of a pair of lips.
I suppose I can always buy another one, but lip balm is one of those purchases (like chewing gum and sanitary products) that you always seem to make on the go. Who is pre-ordering their lip balm? Not me. I’m standing in Boots in the station staring at 53 types of Carmex as my face slowly shrivels up like Spongebob under a heat lamp. So which one to choose? Let’s investigate.
Dr PawPaw
I don’t know who Dr PawPaw is, but put it this way, I would want to see thorough documentation before I entrusted him with my mammogram. And after buying this in a panic, I’m not sure I should go to Dr PawPaw for lip balm either.
This pink pearlescent goop made my lips even dryer than they are already, and I was alarmed to find that it’s meant to be liberally slathered onto lips and cheeks and even eyes – which is great if you want to look like Shane Warne.
VERDICT: Dr PooPoo
Nivea
Nivea lip balms are the ultimate in basic, boring everydayness. No matter how they try to jazz them up with flavours like vanilla buttercream (blurrgh), watermelon and cherry, they’re just cheap Pritt sticks for your lips with a paraffin aftertaste, like licking a candle.
You will never truly love a Nivea lip balm. It’ll be the one you leave behind in your desk drawer when you get a new job, next to a napkin from Pret and three dried up tabs of Wrigley’s Extra - and there will probably be a hair on it.
VERDICT: £1.49 next to the Buxton Water
Vaseline
Despite being even more basic than Nivea, a tin of Vaseline has a business-like quality that cannot be denied. Vaseline eschews fashion and stands out like a stern gentleman on a horse pointing at you, saying ‘now look here, this petroleum jelly is a miraculous unguent for all manner of ailments and dryness of the labium superis.’
I’m an Original gal, or maybe Aloe if I’m feeling fancy. They’re good because they actually work, and also they last so long that you’ll probably have to leave something to them in your will.
VERDICT: Slick
Carmex
Carmex has tried to distract me by bringing out a leopardprint one, thus appealing to my midlife Kat Slater complex. I want to buy loads of these and have them in every room of the house, and perhaps save a couple to be made into Pat Butcher-style earrings.
But I HATE THE SMELL. It’s got camphor in it, which makes me think of suppurating war wounds or Victorian death beds. They’ve been pumping this stuff out in some factory in Arkansas since the 1930s and I can’t help wondering whether it’s made from Germolene and melted-down horse trotters.
VERDICT: It’s not worf it, hun
TV: LOVE ISLAND
I have had a few issues with this winter’s Love Island, which is being filmed in a windswept South African villa, just a few miles from a raging wildfire. First: it’s shit. Second: it’s been going on for almost EIGHT WEEKS and nothing has really happened. This year’s lot are all Nivea lip balms of the highest order - a bunch of personality-free avatars in upside down bikinis and the world’s worst eBay finds, and they haven’t even had a proper punch up yet. What is the matter with the youth of today? Here are my least favourites:
Ron and Lana
Just as you can’t imagine a baby called Gary or Ian, it’s cognitively distressing to see a young man called Ron. Ronnie is kind of cute and Rolling Stonesy, but Ron? Ron is my uncle, who was a member of the Rotary Club and whose catchphrase was ‘Of course.’ To see my Uncle Ron, I mean Ron from Love Island, saying things like ‘she’s my type on paper’, ‘We was lipsing in the Hideaway’ and ‘I’m buzzin for Casa’ disturbs me to the core. Ron and Lana are tipped to win because their tedious love is eternal - she’s a barmaid from the Dog and Bucket, he’s a likely lad who does ‘this and that’, and they’ll move into a two-up two-down and she’ll get pregnant and then he’ll run off with brassy Rita from the betting shop.
VERDICT: Da don’t ron ron
CASEY AND ROSIE
Casey is that most beguiling of creatures: a recruitment consultant from Tring. With his swept back 90s boyband hair, flared nostrils and piercingly dull eyes, he’s a sizzling heartthrob who has said precisely nothing interesting for two months, (apart from when he pretended his belly was a drum and did a Fozzie Bear voice - that was quite funny). His relationship with Rosie, who has as much presence as a picture of Goole town centre, is an unconvincing and doomed enterprise, like watching Andrew Ridgeley pretending to play the guitar in the background of the Wake Me Up Before You Go Go video.
VERDICT: Tring fling
Will and Jessie
Will is a farmer and a TikTok star, who is always up to ‘goofy antics’ and has the strained, crazed look of Frank Spencer hanging off the back of a removal van. He’s coupled up with Jessie, a strangely detached Australian girl, who seems one step away from knifing them all to death. Together they are… boring.
(Also, I know this isn’t a very current reference but he REALLY reminds me of Lance Percival.)
VERDICT: Have you lost the Will to live yet?
THING: Soreen Lemon Mini Loaves
And finally, let us rejoice! The birds are tweeting, the daffodils are blooming, and a new baby Soreen is born. These little belters, with their sunny disposition, are one of the first signs of spring, and are squishy, squashy pillows of tea time joy. I sneezed and spat one all over myself earlier, and even though it left a florescent yellow stain on my sweatshirt that will probably never come off, I DIDN’T EVEN CARE.
VERDICT: When life gives you lemon Soreen, make lemon Soreenade
Remember Juicy Tubes by Lancome? I once 'invested' (anyone who puts the word 'invested' next to 'lip balm' needs their head examined) in a juicy tube. It should have been called Whoo Hoo Superglue because my mouth stuck to everything - coffee cups, walls, small furry animals. And it didn't last long either! (Love your Monday Morning laugh) x
A much needed Monday morning laugh Lucy! Always a joy. JX