(Discontinued in 2004) – Note: Though Phuket was discontinued in Autumn 2004, when the Tsunami of December 2004 hit, Lush
made it available once again for a limited time only, giving 100% of the proceeds from all Phuket sales to the Tsunami Relief Fund.
Named after a Thai island, Phuket shares its tropical recipe with I Should Coco Soap: sweet coconut (from real coconuts as opposed
to the synthetic perfumes you usually find in so-called "coconut scented" products on the market), toning orange oil, calming coriander,
and tranquilizing Indonesian vetivert oil. And yet, somehow Phuket's overall aroma comes off a bit sweeter than I Should Coco, where
herbal coriander and grassy vetivert can occasionally speak out of turn. The result is a deliciously perfumed bath that leaves the
subtlest scent on the skin, a fine balance between toothsome delicacy and candied overbearingness having been met at perfection,
with the additional benefit of intense moisturisation thanks to a hefty dose of pure coconut cream. Turning clear waters a vibrant
peach, Phuket also contains desiccated coconut, and though some shreds have already turned orange by way of association, the
majority retain an aged beige to yellow colouring. And sadly, this desiccated coconut is often presented in crumbs rather than more
familiar shredded strands, looking quite like something that might be scraped out from under loose caulking around one's tub. Put it
this way: these rather unsightly bits are often so sparse and so tiny that if you don't know to expect them, you might be wondering
"what are these bits of grime in my tub and where did they come from?" And being that they do indeed stick to you, you'll want to keep
your hair out of the water and to thoroughly rinse in the shower after this bath; otherwise, you'll occasionally be pulling off tiny flecks of
what appears to be soap grime or flakes of jaundiced skin throughout the day. Sans the nuissance of these unnecessarily itsy bitsy
bits, Phuket could possibly be one of Lush's the most perfect baths, especially considering how well it's quieter scent blends with
other products to create "bath cocktails." For example, try combining a Phuket Ballistic with any of the following bath products for
added aromatic dimension and deliciousness: a lemony Bon Bon or Still LIfe, orange and grapefruit Happy Pill, woods and spice Hot
Java, banana Little Monkey, orange cake Happy Birthday, or a vanilla frosting Floating Island. For traditionalist Lushies, of course, you
can always go for what I call a "virgin bath cocktail" by simply bringing a bar of I Should Coco into the bath and perhaps following that
with Lush's coconut Trichomania shampoo as well as their Coolaulin Conditioner, whose recipe is almost Phuket-like, being that it
similarly contains both coconut and vetivert oil.
made it available once again for a limited time only, giving 100% of the proceeds from all Phuket sales to the Tsunami Relief Fund.
Named after a Thai island, Phuket shares its tropical recipe with I Should Coco Soap: sweet coconut (from real coconuts as opposed
to the synthetic perfumes you usually find in so-called "coconut scented" products on the market), toning orange oil, calming coriander,
and tranquilizing Indonesian vetivert oil. And yet, somehow Phuket's overall aroma comes off a bit sweeter than I Should Coco, where
herbal coriander and grassy vetivert can occasionally speak out of turn. The result is a deliciously perfumed bath that leaves the
subtlest scent on the skin, a fine balance between toothsome delicacy and candied overbearingness having been met at perfection,
with the additional benefit of intense moisturisation thanks to a hefty dose of pure coconut cream. Turning clear waters a vibrant
peach, Phuket also contains desiccated coconut, and though some shreds have already turned orange by way of association, the
majority retain an aged beige to yellow colouring. And sadly, this desiccated coconut is often presented in crumbs rather than more
familiar shredded strands, looking quite like something that might be scraped out from under loose caulking around one's tub. Put it
this way: these rather unsightly bits are often so sparse and so tiny that if you don't know to expect them, you might be wondering
"what are these bits of grime in my tub and where did they come from?" And being that they do indeed stick to you, you'll want to keep
your hair out of the water and to thoroughly rinse in the shower after this bath; otherwise, you'll occasionally be pulling off tiny flecks of
what appears to be soap grime or flakes of jaundiced skin throughout the day. Sans the nuissance of these unnecessarily itsy bitsy
bits, Phuket could possibly be one of Lush's the most perfect baths, especially considering how well it's quieter scent blends with
other products to create "bath cocktails." For example, try combining a Phuket Ballistic with any of the following bath products for
added aromatic dimension and deliciousness: a lemony Bon Bon or Still LIfe, orange and grapefruit Happy Pill, woods and spice Hot
Java, banana Little Monkey, orange cake Happy Birthday, or a vanilla frosting Floating Island. For traditionalist Lushies, of course, you
can always go for what I call a "virgin bath cocktail" by simply bringing a bar of I Should Coco into the bath and perhaps following that
with Lush's coconut Trichomania shampoo as well as their Coolaulin Conditioner, whose recipe is almost Phuket-like, being that it
similarly contains both coconut and vetivert oil.
(Limited Edition for Christmas 2001) – Imagine a festive fuschia party punch made with champagne, a concoction of various berries &
plums blended with pure cane sugar, several shots of citrus flavoured vodka and a dash of rose water (for added poshness.) Now
bathe in it. This is the Plum Duff experience, and it's best had before a raucous night of Christmas partying: all night long, you'll smell
like a Framboise Royale cocktail & tangy sugar-baked fruit desserts with dollops of cream. The bar & buffet will pale in comparison to
your own scrumptiously strokeable bod's aroma; you'll find it much easier to bypass the copious amounts of sweets & plonk so that
you can still respect yourself (and wear the same dress size) in the morning.
plums blended with pure cane sugar, several shots of citrus flavoured vodka and a dash of rose water (for added poshness.) Now
bathe in it. This is the Plum Duff experience, and it's best had before a raucous night of Christmas partying: all night long, you'll smell
like a Framboise Royale cocktail & tangy sugar-baked fruit desserts with dollops of cream. The bar & buffet will pale in comparison to
your own scrumptiously strokeable bod's aroma; you'll find it much easier to bypass the copious amounts of sweets & plonk so that
you can still respect yourself (and wear the same dress size) in the morning.
(Forum Edition for 2006) – After Christmas 2005, Lush UK had some leftover foam letters from their Letters To Santa Bath Ballistic.
They put a vote to their forum members: they'd create two special Ballistics with these letters that shared the scent of forumites'
favourite Lush Christmas bath. And so, for the first Ballistic, with Lushies having excellent taste (which is why they're fans of Lush in
the first place), they chose Plum Duff. Now in a mild green bath rather than Plum Duff's usual fuschia (or the yellowed mud and spice
hued of the original Letters To Santa), the entire bath room is instantly filled with a sophisticatedly delicious take on the scent of sugar
baked fruit desserts with dollops of cream. Meanwhile, foam letters puff up in the water, enabling you to stick them to the sides of the
tub like embossed Fisher Price magnets. This bath is nothing short of a call to your inner child to come out and play. You won't
necessarily get enough letters in one bath to form many words (can I buy a vowel, please, Pat?) And sometimes, they're broken apart
so that you only get half letters. But that's the perfect excuse to take several of these baths until you collect enough consonants and
vowels to win your own personal game of Wheel of Fortune, the grand prize being... Well, you're already bathing in it!
They put a vote to their forum members: they'd create two special Ballistics with these letters that shared the scent of forumites'
favourite Lush Christmas bath. And so, for the first Ballistic, with Lushies having excellent taste (which is why they're fans of Lush in
the first place), they chose Plum Duff. Now in a mild green bath rather than Plum Duff's usual fuschia (or the yellowed mud and spice
hued of the original Letters To Santa), the entire bath room is instantly filled with a sophisticatedly delicious take on the scent of sugar
baked fruit desserts with dollops of cream. Meanwhile, foam letters puff up in the water, enabling you to stick them to the sides of the
tub like embossed Fisher Price magnets. This bath is nothing short of a call to your inner child to come out and play. You won't
necessarily get enough letters in one bath to form many words (can I buy a vowel, please, Pat?) And sometimes, they're broken apart
so that you only get half letters. But that's the perfect excuse to take several of these baths until you collect enough consonants and
vowels to win your own personal game of Wheel of Fortune, the grand prize being... Well, you're already bathing in it!
(Limited Edition for Christmas 2006) – Every Christmas, Lush offers their classic Lush Pud Bath Ballistic, which looks and smells like
traditional Christmas pudding, perfumed with fruits and spices. In 2006, however, Lush renamed this bath to become "Puddy Holly,"
even as it is made fwith the same exact recipe as Lush Pud. The proof is in the pudding (ha ha): if you looked closely in the shops,
though the wooden crates housing these Ballistics featured a chalkboard sign reading 'Puddy Holly', when they taped your plastic
baggies at the till, the sticker still said 'Lush Pud' on it. (They forgot to change it.) Lush Pud was renamed for one year only to go with
Lush's classic crooner theme for Christmas 2006, a collection of bath and shower products including Bob Soap (Bob Hope),
Ol' Blue Skies Is Back Shower Gel (Frank Sinatra), and Bling Crosby Bubble Bar (Bing Crosby.) And as if you didn't guess by now (of
course you did), Puddy Holly is named after Buddy Holly. Just remember, though, that "puddy" is short for "pudding", so it's actually
pronounced to rhyme with "woody". Don't get me wrong, I do like the pun myself, but I also have an aching fear that I'll be hearing my
American friends pronounce "pud" to rhyme with "mud" all that much more often from here on out! On the other hand, this brown
Ballistic does indeed look as though you're bathing in mud, so perhaps my fellow Yanks have a point! To read a full review of Lush
Pud (rhymes with "wood" but looks like "mud"), click HERE to visit our Bath Ballistics (A-M) page.
traditional Christmas pudding, perfumed with fruits and spices. In 2006, however, Lush renamed this bath to become "Puddy Holly,"
even as it is made fwith the same exact recipe as Lush Pud. The proof is in the pudding (ha ha): if you looked closely in the shops,
though the wooden crates housing these Ballistics featured a chalkboard sign reading 'Puddy Holly', when they taped your plastic
baggies at the till, the sticker still said 'Lush Pud' on it. (They forgot to change it.) Lush Pud was renamed for one year only to go with
Lush's classic crooner theme for Christmas 2006, a collection of bath and shower products including Bob Soap (Bob Hope),
Ol' Blue Skies Is Back Shower Gel (Frank Sinatra), and Bling Crosby Bubble Bar (Bing Crosby.) And as if you didn't guess by now (of
course you did), Puddy Holly is named after Buddy Holly. Just remember, though, that "puddy" is short for "pudding", so it's actually
pronounced to rhyme with "woody". Don't get me wrong, I do like the pun myself, but I also have an aching fear that I'll be hearing my
American friends pronounce "pud" to rhyme with "mud" all that much more often from here on out! On the other hand, this brown
Ballistic does indeed look as though you're bathing in mud, so perhaps my fellow Yanks have a point! To read a full review of Lush
Pud (rhymes with "wood" but looks like "mud"), click HERE to visit our Bath Ballistics (A-M) page.
A half-sized, off-white ball of bath salts with red flowers peeking out of it, Romance In A Stone offers ultra feminine orange blossom,
tangerine, mandarin, and orange, coupled with a sweetly powdery note that can almost conjure imagery of a single, fragile drop of
vanilla being ever-so-delicately placed into its secret perfume by the most loving, careful hands. While a potent aroma in solid form, its
softer side belies a subtlety that reveals itself in the bath: if you're not one for the softly expressed richness of subtler scents, you may
enjoy this fragrance on your skin and in the water, but find it difficult to place the various notes in the air, as they aren't the type to jump
up and make a spectacle of themselves. (And as a result, if you have a larger bathtub, you may also find yourself wondering why Lush
wouldn't have afforded Romance In A Stone a full-sized design.) Though offering no colour to the water itself, Romance In A Stone's
large red rosebud and several of her petal friends (mine also always including what appear to be slender but thick yellowish-beige
tropical petals, though they'e not listed in the ingredients) perform a sparse, unenthusiastic dance for you, as some appear a bit aged
and faded, having lost the vibrantly coloured flourish of their youth. At the core of this Ballistic lies a large scroll of paper with a poem:
my first, for example, featured verses 4-6 of Keats' La Belle Dame Sans Merci, etched in a most elegant scripted font. But aside from
the sophistication of a private poetry reading, in the name of all that is mesmerizing about classical romance, I personally could do
with a bit more unbridled passion -- the dramatic urgency of a sweep you off your feet display of affection as opposed to the simplicity
of a few amourously spoken words. (Think Antony & Cleopatra compared to Algernon Moncreiff's bantered courtship of Cecily Cardew.)
tangerine, mandarin, and orange, coupled with a sweetly powdery note that can almost conjure imagery of a single, fragile drop of
vanilla being ever-so-delicately placed into its secret perfume by the most loving, careful hands. While a potent aroma in solid form, its
softer side belies a subtlety that reveals itself in the bath: if you're not one for the softly expressed richness of subtler scents, you may
enjoy this fragrance on your skin and in the water, but find it difficult to place the various notes in the air, as they aren't the type to jump
up and make a spectacle of themselves. (And as a result, if you have a larger bathtub, you may also find yourself wondering why Lush
wouldn't have afforded Romance In A Stone a full-sized design.) Though offering no colour to the water itself, Romance In A Stone's
large red rosebud and several of her petal friends (mine also always including what appear to be slender but thick yellowish-beige
tropical petals, though they'e not listed in the ingredients) perform a sparse, unenthusiastic dance for you, as some appear a bit aged
and faded, having lost the vibrantly coloured flourish of their youth. At the core of this Ballistic lies a large scroll of paper with a poem:
my first, for example, featured verses 4-6 of Keats' La Belle Dame Sans Merci, etched in a most elegant scripted font. But aside from
the sophistication of a private poetry reading, in the name of all that is mesmerizing about classical romance, I personally could do
with a bit more unbridled passion -- the dramatic urgency of a sweep you off your feet display of affection as opposed to the simplicity
of a few amourously spoken words. (Think Antony & Cleopatra compared to Algernon Moncreiff's bantered courtship of Cecily Cardew.)
There are those who love Sakura (and the similarly scented 17 Cherry Tree Lane Soap), and then there are those who despise it. Then
there is me, who finds Sakura to be a bit “ho-hum,” even in comparison to 17 Cherry Tree Lane. Sakura is scented with lemon,
mimosa, and orange blossom. However, while this equals a lovely, sweet, powdery perfume, the fragrance is often far too subtle and
even occasionally carries a note that smells a little like…well, dampness, really. That’s the only way I can think to describe it; it smells
a little like stale, standing water at times. Sad, this, because the very first Sakura baths I ever took back when it was a "new" product
were stunningly fragrant. But ever since then... Additionally, being that this white Bath Ballistic is filled with little blue and pink specks of
sea salt crystals, you’d think they might tint the water a delicate shade of pastel. But sadly, they make no real impact at all, leaving the
water looking dull as dishwater. So, despite a Sakura bath’s giving you super soft skin (to the point where, hours later, you almost think
you’ve applied a body lotion even when you haven’t), for the most part, it’s bland, it’s weak, and overall, it’s simply unimpressive.
there is me, who finds Sakura to be a bit “ho-hum,” even in comparison to 17 Cherry Tree Lane. Sakura is scented with lemon,
mimosa, and orange blossom. However, while this equals a lovely, sweet, powdery perfume, the fragrance is often far too subtle and
even occasionally carries a note that smells a little like…well, dampness, really. That’s the only way I can think to describe it; it smells
a little like stale, standing water at times. Sad, this, because the very first Sakura baths I ever took back when it was a "new" product
were stunningly fragrant. But ever since then... Additionally, being that this white Bath Ballistic is filled with little blue and pink specks of
sea salt crystals, you’d think they might tint the water a delicate shade of pastel. But sadly, they make no real impact at all, leaving the
water looking dull as dishwater. So, despite a Sakura bath’s giving you super soft skin (to the point where, hours later, you almost think
you’ve applied a body lotion even when you haven’t), for the most part, it’s bland, it’s weak, and overall, it’s simply unimpressive.
It truly breaks my heart to take even a single cocktail away from Sex Bomb, but I’m afraid my (ir)rational mind must win out in the name
of fairness. *sigh* Sex Bomb – with its two-tone shading and decorative rose topper – is a gorgeous bath-meets-art creation, one of
Lush’s all-time prettiest by visual design. But toss it into the water, and that pretty pink rose immediately turns into a big ugly blob o’
gelatinous goo. Sure, you could just grab it and toss it in the bin once it blobs out on ya’, but are you sure you want to touch that slimy
thing? On the other hand, if you try to avoid touching it, it will gradually break apart along the water’s surface, making sure to touch you.
Enter heebie-jeebies, stage right. This is unfortunate, because slime assault aside, the scent of this lively, bright pink bath is
breathtakingly unique in its balance of masculine & feminine aromatic energies: your olfactories first encounter a brawny musk
wrapped in earthy clary sage, followed by sensually sweet drippings of aphrodisiac Queen of the Night and ylang ylang. If Lush would
just change the consistency of that flower on top so that it didn’t gross unassuming bathers senseless, I’d gladly return Sex Bomb’s
retracted on-the-house bevvies. And oh, how I’d love to! May Lush hear my plea!
of fairness. *sigh* Sex Bomb – with its two-tone shading and decorative rose topper – is a gorgeous bath-meets-art creation, one of
Lush’s all-time prettiest by visual design. But toss it into the water, and that pretty pink rose immediately turns into a big ugly blob o’
gelatinous goo. Sure, you could just grab it and toss it in the bin once it blobs out on ya’, but are you sure you want to touch that slimy
thing? On the other hand, if you try to avoid touching it, it will gradually break apart along the water’s surface, making sure to touch you.
Enter heebie-jeebies, stage right. This is unfortunate, because slime assault aside, the scent of this lively, bright pink bath is
breathtakingly unique in its balance of masculine & feminine aromatic energies: your olfactories first encounter a brawny musk
wrapped in earthy clary sage, followed by sensually sweet drippings of aphrodisiac Queen of the Night and ylang ylang. If Lush would
just change the consistency of that flower on top so that it didn’t gross unassuming bathers senseless, I’d gladly return Sex Bomb’s
retracted on-the-house bevvies. And oh, how I’d love to! May Lush hear my plea!
(Discontinued in 2006) – Well, you might expect that a bath reminiscent of Sicilian orange groves would be orange in colour, but not so.
Instead, expect this bath bomb to remind you more of radioactive pee when it hits the water. You'd also expect it to smell of oranges,
and when it's solid, it does: it smells like a scrumptiously fizzy mimosa. But then it hits the water, and your glass of mimosa suddenly
seems half empty. After 20 minutes, you realize that someone must have guzzled your drink when you weren't looking, because all
you're left with is scentless (pee) water and your only saving grace is a floating orange slice (someone recently said that Lush no
longer includes this, but they're wrong), and marigold petals, which cleverly serve to look like floating bits of orange pulp. And
fortunately, if you hold the orange slice to your nose, you can get a wee whiff of mimosa all over again, even if it does seem a bit sad
that you've resorted to sniffing cocktail garnishes because the bartender cut you off.
Instead, expect this bath bomb to remind you more of radioactive pee when it hits the water. You'd also expect it to smell of oranges,
and when it's solid, it does: it smells like a scrumptiously fizzy mimosa. But then it hits the water, and your glass of mimosa suddenly
seems half empty. After 20 minutes, you realize that someone must have guzzled your drink when you weren't looking, because all
you're left with is scentless (pee) water and your only saving grace is a floating orange slice (someone recently said that Lush no
longer includes this, but they're wrong), and marigold petals, which cleverly serve to look like floating bits of orange pulp. And
fortunately, if you hold the orange slice to your nose, you can get a wee whiff of mimosa all over again, even if it does seem a bit sad
that you've resorted to sniffing cocktail garnishes because the bartender cut you off.
(Limited Edition for Christmas 2003) – Patchouli haters the world over will feel deeply dismayed when I mention that Silent White
prominently features this oil, their arch aromatic nemesis. Pre-Lush, I was once an adamant patchouli hater, too, so I can certainly feel
these peoples' pain. And yet, when this hippie labeled oil is blended with fresh floral-citrus petitgrain and sweet ylang ylang, I can't
help but feel anything but love. As far as calming aromatherapeutic baths go, Silent White is, in my opinion, the absolute tops. With a
woodsy, musky air meeting with a powdery breeze, both men and women (and hippies and non-hippies) alike will feel hypnotized into
a sedated trance where life's stresses simply cannot touch them. And for those whose energy tends to be rather chaotic, centred
around and emanating from their head (think Chinese fire element), upon rising from this bath they are guaranteed to feel as though
their energies have been pulled down into their bodies, grounded with a mental release that allows for calm clarity. And the aura of
tranquility doesn't stop there: not your usual ferociously fizzing bath bomb, Silent White is best used fresh when it is guaranteed to be
its most buoyant (which means Lush better bring it back next Christmas for you to try.) This white Ballistic takes its sweet time, silently
bobbing along the water's surface while slowly releasing a creamy white froth that, once settled within the water's depths gives you a
milk clouded bath that is virtually symbolic of all the fogged debris it's successfully removed from your head. I challenge anyone not to
pull up a pillow and have a doze in this bath. Even hyperactive insomniacs like me can't help but do precisely this, topping up our cozy
blanket of water with additional layers of soothing liquid heat lest we be forced to chillingly say goodbye to our Silent White, the perfect
start to a silent night, both inside and out.
prominently features this oil, their arch aromatic nemesis. Pre-Lush, I was once an adamant patchouli hater, too, so I can certainly feel
these peoples' pain. And yet, when this hippie labeled oil is blended with fresh floral-citrus petitgrain and sweet ylang ylang, I can't
help but feel anything but love. As far as calming aromatherapeutic baths go, Silent White is, in my opinion, the absolute tops. With a
woodsy, musky air meeting with a powdery breeze, both men and women (and hippies and non-hippies) alike will feel hypnotized into
a sedated trance where life's stresses simply cannot touch them. And for those whose energy tends to be rather chaotic, centred
around and emanating from their head (think Chinese fire element), upon rising from this bath they are guaranteed to feel as though
their energies have been pulled down into their bodies, grounded with a mental release that allows for calm clarity. And the aura of
tranquility doesn't stop there: not your usual ferociously fizzing bath bomb, Silent White is best used fresh when it is guaranteed to be
its most buoyant (which means Lush better bring it back next Christmas for you to try.) This white Ballistic takes its sweet time, silently
bobbing along the water's surface while slowly releasing a creamy white froth that, once settled within the water's depths gives you a
milk clouded bath that is virtually symbolic of all the fogged debris it's successfully removed from your head. I challenge anyone not to
pull up a pillow and have a doze in this bath. Even hyperactive insomniacs like me can't help but do precisely this, topping up our cozy
blanket of water with additional layers of soothing liquid heat lest we be forced to chillingly say goodbye to our Silent White, the perfect
start to a silent night, both inside and out.
(Discontinued in 2001 and reformulated to become a Shower Gel) – "Wake up, sleepy head! Rub your eyes; get out of bed!" That's
what Slammer Bath Ballistic sings to you each morning. And on days when you have to get up early, if you're anything like me -- evil to
the very core until a cup of caffeine (at the very least) enters your bloodstream -- those who live with you will be quick to cheerfully join
the chorus at "Wake up! The wicked witch is dead!" (But they'll stop there, because even they know that while a Slammer bath is
certain to turn even the meanest morning monsters back into human beings, it's best not to push one's luck.) Slammer is a mottled,
two tone yellow and green Bath Ballistic, packed with citrus notes corresponding to each shade: lime and lemony litsea cubeba.
Though initially releasing a bright yellow froth that rushes to the sides of the tub (yet is easily coaxed away with a quick shoo of your
hand -- unless, of course, you're taking your bath in a not-so-clean tub, in which case, these dyes will happily stick to whatever oils they
can find), it quickly becomes a lively sea of bright spring green through which sharp antiseptic lime instantly restores all mental
functions, jumpstarts circulation, opens your eyes, and causes you to yell "wowsa!" out loud. (And 'tis that very moment when everyone
in the house knows that you've become human again.) Lime is also believed to be an antiviral and antidepressant, making it the
perfect bath for flu and Seasonal Affective Disorder season (both happening to strike right around the same time every year.) Yet
lime's sharpness is toned down just enough by a sunny scent that's more lemongrass than lemon: stimulating, heart tonifying litsea
cubeba. And with sea salt to finish the job of stimulating both body and mind, even if dawn has still yet to break, you're guaranteed to
be ready for the day ahead, no matter what gets thrown at you. NOTE: Of course, in 2001, Lush upped the ante on that guarantee by
switching Slammer from a Ballistic to a Shower Gel for all those folks who were taking advantage of the lying down factor involved in a
Slammer Bath. And though Slammer Shower Gel may share this Ballistic's name and concept, with three times the lime plus lemon oil
added to the mix, it also turns the volume of your "wowsa" cry up to a blood curdling scream that risks waking the neighbours. So if you
like Lush's Slammer Shower Gel, you'll likely also enjoy this, her gentler, kinder elder sister.
what Slammer Bath Ballistic sings to you each morning. And on days when you have to get up early, if you're anything like me -- evil to
the very core until a cup of caffeine (at the very least) enters your bloodstream -- those who live with you will be quick to cheerfully join
the chorus at "Wake up! The wicked witch is dead!" (But they'll stop there, because even they know that while a Slammer bath is
certain to turn even the meanest morning monsters back into human beings, it's best not to push one's luck.) Slammer is a mottled,
two tone yellow and green Bath Ballistic, packed with citrus notes corresponding to each shade: lime and lemony litsea cubeba.
Though initially releasing a bright yellow froth that rushes to the sides of the tub (yet is easily coaxed away with a quick shoo of your
hand -- unless, of course, you're taking your bath in a not-so-clean tub, in which case, these dyes will happily stick to whatever oils they
can find), it quickly becomes a lively sea of bright spring green through which sharp antiseptic lime instantly restores all mental
functions, jumpstarts circulation, opens your eyes, and causes you to yell "wowsa!" out loud. (And 'tis that very moment when everyone
in the house knows that you've become human again.) Lime is also believed to be an antiviral and antidepressant, making it the
perfect bath for flu and Seasonal Affective Disorder season (both happening to strike right around the same time every year.) Yet
lime's sharpness is toned down just enough by a sunny scent that's more lemongrass than lemon: stimulating, heart tonifying litsea
cubeba. And with sea salt to finish the job of stimulating both body and mind, even if dawn has still yet to break, you're guaranteed to
be ready for the day ahead, no matter what gets thrown at you. NOTE: Of course, in 2001, Lush upped the ante on that guarantee by
switching Slammer from a Ballistic to a Shower Gel for all those folks who were taking advantage of the lying down factor involved in a
Slammer Bath. And though Slammer Shower Gel may share this Ballistic's name and concept, with three times the lime plus lemon oil
added to the mix, it also turns the volume of your "wowsa" cry up to a blood curdling scream that risks waking the neighbours. So if you
like Lush's Slammer Shower Gel, you'll likely also enjoy this, her gentler, kinder elder sister.
When you don’t get a weak-scented Softy ballistic (which is rare, in my case occurring only twice out of more than a dozen times from
just as many batches in a third as many different countries), it envelops you with a gorgeous fragrance of rose & ylang ylang.
Gorgeous, I tell you! GORGEOUS! But then, it's all downhill from there. Shame, really, because I think we can all agree that the idea of
taking a pink bath filled with rose petals is nothing short of breathtaking. But reality never quite manages to live up to our romantic
fantasies, does it? Softy dissolves to reveal a shedload of dried rose petals...but they're not red. No. They're a nice shade of decay,
namely brown. (And yes, you can place this bath bomb in a nylon stocking to contain the ten million petals as it dissolves. However,
being that consumers are the ones paying for the privilege, I'm a firm believer that beauty products should work to accomodate our
flaws, and not the other way around. Hence, I review all products in their as-purchased state. Besides, I'm not too keen on watching a
floating foot release fizz into my bath, as if the mere existence of knee-hi stockings wasn't already unsexy enough to begin with, ya'
know?) Rub salt into the wounds of reality: all pinkness disappears just as quickly as this ballistic does, leaving you sitting in what
appears to be a very large bowl of soggy cornflakes. If you stay put, you'll find that your cereal has tinted the bathwater a lovely hue of
muddy. If you leave, you’ll find cornflakes stuck to both body and tub, the latter being a pain of a mess to clean up. Now, if Lush would
just lose the Special K flakes (or find a way around them, being that they surely know the fate of pulled petals is to turn brown when
they dry au naturel, and I'm not the first to voice such a complaint where this bath is concerned) and consistently raise the volume of
Softy’s unique, fragrant bouquet a few decibels, we’d have a bath well worth forking out $5 for on a regular basis. Until then…
just as many batches in a third as many different countries), it envelops you with a gorgeous fragrance of rose & ylang ylang.
Gorgeous, I tell you! GORGEOUS! But then, it's all downhill from there. Shame, really, because I think we can all agree that the idea of
taking a pink bath filled with rose petals is nothing short of breathtaking. But reality never quite manages to live up to our romantic
fantasies, does it? Softy dissolves to reveal a shedload of dried rose petals...but they're not red. No. They're a nice shade of decay,
namely brown. (And yes, you can place this bath bomb in a nylon stocking to contain the ten million petals as it dissolves. However,
being that consumers are the ones paying for the privilege, I'm a firm believer that beauty products should work to accomodate our
flaws, and not the other way around. Hence, I review all products in their as-purchased state. Besides, I'm not too keen on watching a
floating foot release fizz into my bath, as if the mere existence of knee-hi stockings wasn't already unsexy enough to begin with, ya'
know?) Rub salt into the wounds of reality: all pinkness disappears just as quickly as this ballistic does, leaving you sitting in what
appears to be a very large bowl of soggy cornflakes. If you stay put, you'll find that your cereal has tinted the bathwater a lovely hue of
muddy. If you leave, you’ll find cornflakes stuck to both body and tub, the latter being a pain of a mess to clean up. Now, if Lush would
just lose the Special K flakes (or find a way around them, being that they surely know the fate of pulled petals is to turn brown when
they dry au naturel, and I'm not the first to voice such a complaint where this bath is concerned) and consistently raise the volume of
Softy’s unique, fragrant bouquet a few decibels, we’d have a bath well worth forking out $5 for on a regular basis. Until then…
In February 2006, I unexpectedly received a parcel from Lush UK, containing several ultra fresh prototypes of new items created by Mo
Constantine, along with a request for my opinions while they still had time to make product adjustments prior to their launch. One of
the items was a Bath Ballistic due to go public in May 2006 called "Still Life / Van Gogh's Insanity Cure". Granted, I was deeply touched
to have my opinions sought out by anyone, let alone someone I respect and consider a creative genius. And yet I tell you this story
strictly because it makes a major impact on this product and my review of it. You see, I have since learned that there is a major
difference between prototypes and what we buy in the stores. For a prototype, the product designer carefully makes one single batch
of their creation and, sans the need to quickly mass produce it, the special attention it receives always results in a perfect model to be
presented at a meeting for Lush's "yay" or "nay" consideration. Hence, needless to say, my first Still Life experience was quite different
from any other I've since enjoyed, namely because I discovered that though freshness is essential when it comes to getting the most
out of any Lush product, this fact becomes all that much truer in light of this specific bath. A pale yellow 200g ball of skin conditioning
bath salts, Still Life shares its creamy but zesty lemon meringue fragrance with Lush's Lemony Flutter Cuticle Butter, even as it
contains an additional fizzing, sparkling note that recalls a hint of champagne. My prototype -- Still Life as it was perfectly intended --
contained quite a bit of long lasting scent in a beautiful sea of golden sunshine offset by spring green undertones. And as it dissolved
in the tub, a whole sunflower came forth: it had been carefully curled up just so, gently placed by hand within the Ballistic's core,
literally blossoming and coming to "still life" in a glorious display upon release. I was mesmerized by its beauty, even as I felt it was
unnecessarily upstaged by a circling handful of massive individual petals , each about 4-6 inches in length. My advice to Lush was to
stick with the one flower and remove these additional petals, allowing the eyes to be drawn to this blooming show stopper sans
distraction. Especially since this flower's behaviour perfectly summarized the spirit of this bath: you go in a shrinking, sleepy flower
and inevitably come out feeling alive and alert, much as you would should the sun suddenly appear on a grey, rainy day. I've since
used several Still Life's from the store, and I cannot stress enough how imperative it is that you make certain to purchase and
experience Still Life at its brightest and freshest. If you don't, my review will no doubt strike you as thoroughly inaccurate: the scent will
be quick to fade and not only will those large, lanky petals fade to a translucent, deadened brown, but the sunflower itself will fail to
blossom in the bath the way Mo had brilliantly intended. Having gone too gently into that good night, it will remain curled up, its
smaller, more delicate petals having crumbled and broken away, turning the water a mildly muddied hue. So please promise me that
you'll always use your Still Life Bath Ballistics straight away. This is actually one of the most beautiful baths that Mo has created in
some time; for everyone's sake including your own, be sure to do the latest example of her genius fair justice.
Constantine, along with a request for my opinions while they still had time to make product adjustments prior to their launch. One of
the items was a Bath Ballistic due to go public in May 2006 called "Still Life / Van Gogh's Insanity Cure". Granted, I was deeply touched
to have my opinions sought out by anyone, let alone someone I respect and consider a creative genius. And yet I tell you this story
strictly because it makes a major impact on this product and my review of it. You see, I have since learned that there is a major
difference between prototypes and what we buy in the stores. For a prototype, the product designer carefully makes one single batch
of their creation and, sans the need to quickly mass produce it, the special attention it receives always results in a perfect model to be
presented at a meeting for Lush's "yay" or "nay" consideration. Hence, needless to say, my first Still Life experience was quite different
from any other I've since enjoyed, namely because I discovered that though freshness is essential when it comes to getting the most
out of any Lush product, this fact becomes all that much truer in light of this specific bath. A pale yellow 200g ball of skin conditioning
bath salts, Still Life shares its creamy but zesty lemon meringue fragrance with Lush's Lemony Flutter Cuticle Butter, even as it
contains an additional fizzing, sparkling note that recalls a hint of champagne. My prototype -- Still Life as it was perfectly intended --
contained quite a bit of long lasting scent in a beautiful sea of golden sunshine offset by spring green undertones. And as it dissolved
in the tub, a whole sunflower came forth: it had been carefully curled up just so, gently placed by hand within the Ballistic's core,
literally blossoming and coming to "still life" in a glorious display upon release. I was mesmerized by its beauty, even as I felt it was
unnecessarily upstaged by a circling handful of massive individual petals , each about 4-6 inches in length. My advice to Lush was to
stick with the one flower and remove these additional petals, allowing the eyes to be drawn to this blooming show stopper sans
distraction. Especially since this flower's behaviour perfectly summarized the spirit of this bath: you go in a shrinking, sleepy flower
and inevitably come out feeling alive and alert, much as you would should the sun suddenly appear on a grey, rainy day. I've since
used several Still Life's from the store, and I cannot stress enough how imperative it is that you make certain to purchase and
experience Still Life at its brightest and freshest. If you don't, my review will no doubt strike you as thoroughly inaccurate: the scent will
be quick to fade and not only will those large, lanky petals fade to a translucent, deadened brown, but the sunflower itself will fail to
blossom in the bath the way Mo had brilliantly intended. Having gone too gently into that good night, it will remain curled up, its
smaller, more delicate petals having crumbled and broken away, turning the water a mildly muddied hue. So please promise me that
you'll always use your Still Life Bath Ballistics straight away. This is actually one of the most beautiful baths that Mo has created in
some time; for everyone's sake including your own, be sure to do the latest example of her genius fair justice.
(Limited Edition for Queen Elizabeth II's Golden Jubilee, 2002) – Street Party was launched to celebrate Queen Elizabeth II's Golden
Jubilee (her 50th year on the throne), and I daresay it just might be the most rockin' street party you'll ever attend! This Ballistic is so
heavy on the interactive visuals that you can't help but be fascinated by it (for hours on end, too! Like it or not, you become one of those
party goers who just doesn't know when to leave!) A sparkling white globe of bath salts, it comes decorated with a fabric national flag
attached to its side, and which flag you get generally depends on which country you're in when you buy it. (My last Street Party was from
Montreal, and came with a Québécois fleur-de-lis flag!) This Ballistic is packed with metallic red, silver, blue, and green confetti and
fine golden glitter. In the bath, it makes an awesome spectacle of itself, replicating the sight of confetti falling from the sky in Times
Square on New Year's Eve. And to top it all off, each Street Party comes with a gigantic party streamer rolled up at its core! As the Lush
confetti party kicks off in full swing, even the world's biggest curmudgeons can't help but wave their streamers like nutters! I'm tellin'
ya': this is the most fun you'll EVER have in the bath! (Be sure to bring your own noisemakers!) In addition to fabulous style, this bath
also has a heck of a lot of substance to boot. It immediately softens the skin, tonifies the nervous system, and calms the mind with
just the right amount of lavender combined with fresh vervain (verbena) and a light, floral-based perfume that is almost guaranteed to
be universally agreeable. Yes, Street Party's glitter does leave a bit of a mess in the tub and you'll increasingly find sizeable pieces of
glitter all over the floor as the day goes on. But this is a party; when have you ever thrown a party that didn't require a clean-up session
once all the guests had gone home? And for any glitter-phobes out there, again, this is a party! Lighten up! Sure, you'll not only be
glamourized with elegant, ultra-fine, super-subtle golden fairy dust, but also sparsely speckled with random red metallic bits of six-
sided confetti that risk looking like chicken pox gone wild when the light doesn't hit them just so. But when you go to a party, club, or
concert that releases bagfuls of confetti from the roof, don't random bits stick to your clothes and hair -- sometimes even magically
making their way into your undergarments? Happens to the best of us, and in this case, it happens in the very best way!
Jubilee (her 50th year on the throne), and I daresay it just might be the most rockin' street party you'll ever attend! This Ballistic is so
heavy on the interactive visuals that you can't help but be fascinated by it (for hours on end, too! Like it or not, you become one of those
party goers who just doesn't know when to leave!) A sparkling white globe of bath salts, it comes decorated with a fabric national flag
attached to its side, and which flag you get generally depends on which country you're in when you buy it. (My last Street Party was from
Montreal, and came with a Québécois fleur-de-lis flag!) This Ballistic is packed with metallic red, silver, blue, and green confetti and
fine golden glitter. In the bath, it makes an awesome spectacle of itself, replicating the sight of confetti falling from the sky in Times
Square on New Year's Eve. And to top it all off, each Street Party comes with a gigantic party streamer rolled up at its core! As the Lush
confetti party kicks off in full swing, even the world's biggest curmudgeons can't help but wave their streamers like nutters! I'm tellin'
ya': this is the most fun you'll EVER have in the bath! (Be sure to bring your own noisemakers!) In addition to fabulous style, this bath
also has a heck of a lot of substance to boot. It immediately softens the skin, tonifies the nervous system, and calms the mind with
just the right amount of lavender combined with fresh vervain (verbena) and a light, floral-based perfume that is almost guaranteed to
be universally agreeable. Yes, Street Party's glitter does leave a bit of a mess in the tub and you'll increasingly find sizeable pieces of
glitter all over the floor as the day goes on. But this is a party; when have you ever thrown a party that didn't require a clean-up session
once all the guests had gone home? And for any glitter-phobes out there, again, this is a party! Lighten up! Sure, you'll not only be
glamourized with elegant, ultra-fine, super-subtle golden fairy dust, but also sparsely speckled with random red metallic bits of six-
sided confetti that risk looking like chicken pox gone wild when the light doesn't hit them just so. But when you go to a party, club, or
concert that releases bagfuls of confetti from the roof, don't random bits stick to your clothes and hair -- sometimes even magically
making their way into your undergarments? Happens to the best of us, and in this case, it happens in the very best way!
(Limited Edition for Christmas 2002) – For Christmas 2001, Lush gave us the deliciously sweet Plum Duff Bath Ballistic. But for 2002,
Lush decided to give her a sister: they took her fragrance, lightened her up a bit to a pale pastel pink, added a gazillion irridescent
sparkles, and called her Sugar Plum. (Sugar Plum also shares a very similar -- though not identical -- fragrance with It's A Date
Bubble Bar from Valentine's Day 2003.) In my opinion, few Lush products smell so delicious: when solid, this bath smells strongly of
perfumed plum puddings and champagne mimosas, thanks to tangerine and the vanilla-scented benzoin resinoid interacting with a
handful of secret ingredients. These litttle Lush-o-rific secrets no doubt include a little something that's bubbling over with
sophistication -- what could have been typical and ho hum by a standard, sickly sweet "sugar plum" definition, becomes an elegantly
playful aroma that you wish you could spray all over your body in the hopes that, by the end of the night, someone special might throw
his or her arms (and mouth) around you with abandon, thinking you good enough to eat. Sadly, however, unlike her big sis Plum Duff,
with your expectations high at first sniff, this delicious fragrance often weakens once it hits the water, inevitably losing a bit of its
enticingly curvaceous body in the process. And yet, you don't wind up feeling too terribly let down. Instead, you wind up smitten in a
whole new way, as she distracts you with her beauty: pink tinted water packed with fairy dust that paints your entire body with super-
fine irridescent glitter. A great bath for party prepping, every inch of your Lushous bod is decorated like a disco glitterball. And not just
for one night, either. For days. In fact, much the same as Lush's Christmas Carol or Fairy Jasmine Bath Ballistics, the next morning
(and week and year), you'll find glitter all over the house, as well. It's like the world's biggest disco ball at Japan's Studio Coast club
exploded all over your life. Normally, I'm not into finding glitter all over the house. But come Christmas? Oooh, boy. I'm all about getting
my Sugar Plums ready for all-night parties when I want to outdazzle even the most dazzling creatures on planet Earth, becoming
Cinderella times 10 at the grand ball. So, long live Sugar Plum! (Just put a touch more fragrance in there next time, Lush, will ya'? Cuz
when it comes to painting the town irridescent, we disco divas need to smell as decadently divine as you make us look!)
Lush decided to give her a sister: they took her fragrance, lightened her up a bit to a pale pastel pink, added a gazillion irridescent
sparkles, and called her Sugar Plum. (Sugar Plum also shares a very similar -- though not identical -- fragrance with It's A Date
Bubble Bar from Valentine's Day 2003.) In my opinion, few Lush products smell so delicious: when solid, this bath smells strongly of
perfumed plum puddings and champagne mimosas, thanks to tangerine and the vanilla-scented benzoin resinoid interacting with a
handful of secret ingredients. These litttle Lush-o-rific secrets no doubt include a little something that's bubbling over with
sophistication -- what could have been typical and ho hum by a standard, sickly sweet "sugar plum" definition, becomes an elegantly
playful aroma that you wish you could spray all over your body in the hopes that, by the end of the night, someone special might throw
his or her arms (and mouth) around you with abandon, thinking you good enough to eat. Sadly, however, unlike her big sis Plum Duff,
with your expectations high at first sniff, this delicious fragrance often weakens once it hits the water, inevitably losing a bit of its
enticingly curvaceous body in the process. And yet, you don't wind up feeling too terribly let down. Instead, you wind up smitten in a
whole new way, as she distracts you with her beauty: pink tinted water packed with fairy dust that paints your entire body with super-
fine irridescent glitter. A great bath for party prepping, every inch of your Lushous bod is decorated like a disco glitterball. And not just
for one night, either. For days. In fact, much the same as Lush's Christmas Carol or Fairy Jasmine Bath Ballistics, the next morning
(and week and year), you'll find glitter all over the house, as well. It's like the world's biggest disco ball at Japan's Studio Coast club
exploded all over your life. Normally, I'm not into finding glitter all over the house. But come Christmas? Oooh, boy. I'm all about getting
my Sugar Plums ready for all-night parties when I want to outdazzle even the most dazzling creatures on planet Earth, becoming
Cinderella times 10 at the grand ball. So, long live Sugar Plum! (Just put a touch more fragrance in there next time, Lush, will ya'? Cuz
when it comes to painting the town irridescent, we disco divas need to smell as decadently divine as you make us look!)
(Discontinued in 2006) – With Summer Blues, you get a baby blue bath with blue mallow & larkspur flowers and cornflower petals.
Now, I'm not usually a "bits-in-the-bath" type o' gal, especially considering that the inevitable fate of dying flowers is to turn brown &
then look like soggy cornflakes when you put them in the tub. But in this case, while the blue mallow & larkspur flowers are indeed
doomed to such a fate, at least the whispy cornflower petals retain a gorgeous royal blue hue, adding a beautiful touch to what
otherwise could have been your rather typical, floral-scented bath. (And I highly recommend buying & using Summer Blues in its
freshest possible state to get the absolute most out of the cornflowers' beauty, as well as getting the blue mallow & larkspur flowers at
their least dead & decayed.) Brown bits aside, this combination of various shades of blue (a colour typically invoking emotions such as
stability, calm, & youthfulness) and the summer floral fragrances of orange blossom (representing innocence & fruitfulness) &
jasmine (representing amiability, grace, & elegance), makes this a lovely bath for combating the spirit-crushingly dull months of winter.
Now, I'm not usually a "bits-in-the-bath" type o' gal, especially considering that the inevitable fate of dying flowers is to turn brown &
then look like soggy cornflakes when you put them in the tub. But in this case, while the blue mallow & larkspur flowers are indeed
doomed to such a fate, at least the whispy cornflower petals retain a gorgeous royal blue hue, adding a beautiful touch to what
otherwise could have been your rather typical, floral-scented bath. (And I highly recommend buying & using Summer Blues in its
freshest possible state to get the absolute most out of the cornflowers' beauty, as well as getting the blue mallow & larkspur flowers at
their least dead & decayed.) Brown bits aside, this combination of various shades of blue (a colour typically invoking emotions such as
stability, calm, & youthfulness) and the summer floral fragrances of orange blossom (representing innocence & fruitfulness) &
jasmine (representing amiability, grace, & elegance), makes this a lovely bath for combating the spirit-crushingly dull months of winter.
(Limited Edition for Christmas 2005) – If ever there were a teddy bear junkie on planet Earth, it was and is me. Therefore, it should
come as no surprise that I think this is just about the best Lush Christmas product idea ever! Bathing with this bear -- complete with a
big heart on his chest -- became a ceremonial event in my house: two of my favourite teddy bears (who believe that this li'l guy was
made in their honour, considering he's the same colour with his heart representing the satin hearts in their own chests courtesy of The
Build-A-Bear Workshop), joined forces to toss this Ballistc into the water for me, declaring a new nationally observed holiday for
themselves: The Teddy Bears' Christmas. It's pretty hard to go wrong with the scent of Lush's best-selling, ages old (going back to
the days when they went by the name Cosmetics To Go) honey toffee and caramel fragrance, shared not only by this bath, but also by
Ma Bar Bubble Bar, Honey I Washed The Kids Soap, and Honey Bee Bath Ballistic. Hence, in many ways, skin softening Teddy Bears
Christmas is the holiday rendition of Honey Bee, but with a tan colouring and without the scratchy, pebbly grey Rhassoul mud. Yet
similar to Honey Bee, once diluted in water, this ballistic also loses a bit of its fragrant edge, smelling only slightly less delicious than
the more concentrated soap of the same scent. The only downside is the colour of the water. Starting out looking like you're soaking in
a cup of English Breakfast Tea, it increasingly turns a murky yellow shade. Don't let anyone walk into the bathroom while you're
bathing with a Teddy Bear's Christmas; if they don't know any better, they'll think you've had an accident in the bath. Of course, teddy
bears won't mistaken the colour for any such thing. In fact, as I type, mine are sitting in the background protesting my coloured
complaint. They say it's not Lush's fault that honey is naturally yellowish-brown to begin with, and are demanding that this bath be
given a 5-star salute. Well, I realize that teddy bears generally know best, especially considering they're natural-born honey
connoisseurs, but what if I don't and say I did? They'll never know the difference, right? I mean, it's not like they can use a computer or
anything to find out... Or can they?
come as no surprise that I think this is just about the best Lush Christmas product idea ever! Bathing with this bear -- complete with a
big heart on his chest -- became a ceremonial event in my house: two of my favourite teddy bears (who believe that this li'l guy was
made in their honour, considering he's the same colour with his heart representing the satin hearts in their own chests courtesy of The
Build-A-Bear Workshop), joined forces to toss this Ballistc into the water for me, declaring a new nationally observed holiday for
themselves: The Teddy Bears' Christmas. It's pretty hard to go wrong with the scent of Lush's best-selling, ages old (going back to
the days when they went by the name Cosmetics To Go) honey toffee and caramel fragrance, shared not only by this bath, but also by
Ma Bar Bubble Bar, Honey I Washed The Kids Soap, and Honey Bee Bath Ballistic. Hence, in many ways, skin softening Teddy Bears
Christmas is the holiday rendition of Honey Bee, but with a tan colouring and without the scratchy, pebbly grey Rhassoul mud. Yet
similar to Honey Bee, once diluted in water, this ballistic also loses a bit of its fragrant edge, smelling only slightly less delicious than
the more concentrated soap of the same scent. The only downside is the colour of the water. Starting out looking like you're soaking in
a cup of English Breakfast Tea, it increasingly turns a murky yellow shade. Don't let anyone walk into the bathroom while you're
bathing with a Teddy Bear's Christmas; if they don't know any better, they'll think you've had an accident in the bath. Of course, teddy
bears won't mistaken the colour for any such thing. In fact, as I type, mine are sitting in the background protesting my coloured
complaint. They say it's not Lush's fault that honey is naturally yellowish-brown to begin with, and are demanding that this bath be
given a 5-star salute. Well, I realize that teddy bears generally know best, especially considering they're natural-born honey
connoisseurs, but what if I don't and say I did? They'll never know the difference, right? I mean, it's not like they can use a computer or
anything to find out... Or can they?
K, so I have always hated pink. All things pink. Hatred. Deep. And girlie little hearts (especially if they're pink). In fact, the only hate crime
I've ever condoned was the breaking of a pink feckin' heart. In comes a tony Lush bath bomb. It reads "Think Pink" on the label. I reply
"no." To destroy this ball of fluff-hued evil, I throw it into water & laugh at it's demise like a witch on helium. But the whiff! Lavender &
vanilla! And not typical by any means. Nonono. This one allows tonka (which actually smells an awful lot like vanilla in its own right) &
mood altering citrus neroli to run and play with it. I'm in heaven! Am now submerged in pinkness & lovin' every second of it. Then what
do I detect? Pink heart confetti?!?! And so there I sat, dear reader, trying to catch little pink hearts in my hands, only to have them slyly
escape my grasp. (I believe I even recall giggling at some point.) Yes, thanks to Think Pink, I'm no longer bigoted against all things
girlie, whether pink or heart-shaped. And if I had only one request, it would be for Lush to put in even more heart-shaped confetti, so
that I might have a better shot at catching a few to call my own. (To prove Think Pink's long-lasting effect on my coloured prejudices,
note that this website o' mine is dressed to the nines -- in pink!)
I've ever condoned was the breaking of a pink feckin' heart. In comes a tony Lush bath bomb. It reads "Think Pink" on the label. I reply
"no." To destroy this ball of fluff-hued evil, I throw it into water & laugh at it's demise like a witch on helium. But the whiff! Lavender &
vanilla! And not typical by any means. Nonono. This one allows tonka (which actually smells an awful lot like vanilla in its own right) &
mood altering citrus neroli to run and play with it. I'm in heaven! Am now submerged in pinkness & lovin' every second of it. Then what
do I detect? Pink heart confetti?!?! And so there I sat, dear reader, trying to catch little pink hearts in my hands, only to have them slyly
escape my grasp. (I believe I even recall giggling at some point.) Yes, thanks to Think Pink, I'm no longer bigoted against all things
girlie, whether pink or heart-shaped. And if I had only one request, it would be for Lush to put in even more heart-shaped confetti, so
that I might have a better shot at catching a few to call my own. (To prove Think Pink's long-lasting effect on my coloured prejudices,
note that this website o' mine is dressed to the nines -- in pink!)
I've really never gotten what everyone loves about Tisty Tosty, yet it's always on Lush's "best sellers" list. Perhaps the reason is simpler
than I think: like me, people keep buying it over and over again, assuming they're somehow missing out on some aspect of its
greatness, as if surely they're the only person in the world doing so. Like most Bath Ballistics, Tisty Tosty is indeed a wonderful skin
conditioner, making your body feel silky smooth to the point where narcissistically stroking yourself becomes an intervention-worthy
addiction. But this aside, it doesn't add even a smidgeon of scent nor compensatory colour to your bathing experience. Tisty Tosty's
only exclusive claim to fame is a visually provocative romantic swagger: it's heart shaped and contains 7 rosebuds which float along
the bland water’s surface. All in, Tisty Tosty sorta reminds me of most men I’ve dated: he looks an awful lot like prince charming when
we first meet, but then once I get to know him, I have no idea what enraptured me in the first place.
than I think: like me, people keep buying it over and over again, assuming they're somehow missing out on some aspect of its
greatness, as if surely they're the only person in the world doing so. Like most Bath Ballistics, Tisty Tosty is indeed a wonderful skin
conditioner, making your body feel silky smooth to the point where narcissistically stroking yourself becomes an intervention-worthy
addiction. But this aside, it doesn't add even a smidgeon of scent nor compensatory colour to your bathing experience. Tisty Tosty's
only exclusive claim to fame is a visually provocative romantic swagger: it's heart shaped and contains 7 rosebuds which float along
the bland water’s surface. All in, Tisty Tosty sorta reminds me of most men I’ve dated: he looks an awful lot like prince charming when
we first meet, but then once I get to know him, I have no idea what enraptured me in the first place.
(Limited edition for Christmas 2005, 2006) – When you hold this blue-white ball of glittering gorgeousness in your hands, it twinkles
like freshly fallen snow and teases you with the intoxicatingly delicious scent of Lush's American Cream Conditioner: a floral and
musk perfume wrapped in potently powdered vanilla. More than enough to stimulate your senses to the point of ecstatic excitement,
you run a bath and anxiously hurl your Twinkle Bath Ballistic into the water. And nuthin'. You get nuthin' at all. No colour, no glitter, and
as it's fizzing about, the fragrance immediately loses body, relegating itself to an oddly artificial perfume topped with a scanty dusting of
baby powder. Within five to ten minutes, the last aromatic remnants of what began as vanilla milkshakes being sipped by exquisitely
perfumed, poodle-skirted gals in a neon-signed 1950's American diner is, like that era of virtuously noble all-American symbolism,
gone forever. And for a bath called "Twinkle", you can squint and stare at your bland, colourless water, and you might find a tiny cluster
of glitter here and there, but frankly, Twinkle doesn't have enough twinkles to make it twinkly enough to be called "Twinkle". Much like
the bygone era that its original fragrance recalls -- that of perfectly coiffed, aproned, and eternally happy housewives greeting their
equally delightful neighbours in stilted tones against a backdrop of supposedly virginal, never-been-kissed, tight-sweatered teenage
bombshells -- what starts out as a flawlessly packaged Bath Ballistic could easily be accused of false advertising.
like freshly fallen snow and teases you with the intoxicatingly delicious scent of Lush's American Cream Conditioner: a floral and
musk perfume wrapped in potently powdered vanilla. More than enough to stimulate your senses to the point of ecstatic excitement,
you run a bath and anxiously hurl your Twinkle Bath Ballistic into the water. And nuthin'. You get nuthin' at all. No colour, no glitter, and
as it's fizzing about, the fragrance immediately loses body, relegating itself to an oddly artificial perfume topped with a scanty dusting of
baby powder. Within five to ten minutes, the last aromatic remnants of what began as vanilla milkshakes being sipped by exquisitely
perfumed, poodle-skirted gals in a neon-signed 1950's American diner is, like that era of virtuously noble all-American symbolism,
gone forever. And for a bath called "Twinkle", you can squint and stare at your bland, colourless water, and you might find a tiny cluster
of glitter here and there, but frankly, Twinkle doesn't have enough twinkles to make it twinkly enough to be called "Twinkle". Much like
the bygone era that its original fragrance recalls -- that of perfectly coiffed, aproned, and eternally happy housewives greeting their
equally delightful neighbours in stilted tones against a backdrop of supposedly virginal, never-been-kissed, tight-sweatered teenage
bombshells -- what starts out as a flawlessly packaged Bath Ballistic could easily be accused of false advertising.
(Discontinued in 2004) – Uluru was my very first Lush bath ever. It reeled me into all things Lush -- hook, line, and sinker. And even
now, it continues to do so again and again; still as impressive as ever, reminding me what it is that has always made Lush stand out
in today’s vast sea of creatively competitive cosmetics companies. This Ballistic was intended by Mo to portray an Australian sunset
over Ayer’s Rock (also known as Uluru to the indigenous population) in the bath, and with its bright peachy pink colour and the
fragrance of desert flora, you could experience that beautiful sunset time and time again, if and when you willed it. For those who suffer
from Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), this bath is an absolute lifesaver: optimistic orange, anti-depressant desert rosewood,
revitalizing lemon myrtle, and sandalwood, the oil of peace and acceptance, all worked together to reignite the flame in your soul
whenever the darkness of winter had attempted to chill it into submission. I must confide in you, dear reader, that to this day I’ve yet to
forgive Lush for allowing the sun to permanently set over Uluru, and its quite likely possible that I never really will.
now, it continues to do so again and again; still as impressive as ever, reminding me what it is that has always made Lush stand out
in today’s vast sea of creatively competitive cosmetics companies. This Ballistic was intended by Mo to portray an Australian sunset
over Ayer’s Rock (also known as Uluru to the indigenous population) in the bath, and with its bright peachy pink colour and the
fragrance of desert flora, you could experience that beautiful sunset time and time again, if and when you willed it. For those who suffer
from Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), this bath is an absolute lifesaver: optimistic orange, anti-depressant desert rosewood,
revitalizing lemon myrtle, and sandalwood, the oil of peace and acceptance, all worked together to reignite the flame in your soul
whenever the darkness of winter had attempted to chill it into submission. I must confide in you, dear reader, that to this day I’ve yet to
forgive Lush for allowing the sun to permanently set over Uluru, and its quite likely possible that I never really will.
Imparting a tranquil light blue to lavender colour (known to emotionally inspire inner peace), Waving Not Drowning is Lush’s anti-
insomnia, anti-jet lag herbal bath with subduing lavender, warming and balancing fennel, clarifying cardamom, and the sweet sedative
(and anti-depressant) ylang ylang. Yet perhaps owed to the fact that this Bath Ballistic is smaller than most, its concoction of sleepy
time oils can at times be overly subtle, leading you to wonder if it will have any promised effect on your racing mind. Therefore, Waving
Not Drowning requires a bit of effort on your part (with one batch often requiring more effort than another): if you dim the lights, close
your eyes, and breathe deeply, you’ll succeed in picking up the sedative ball where Waving Not Drowning occasionally drops it. By the
end of your bath, you’ll want to wander straight to bed (avoiding bright lighting & all other “daytime” distractions on the way) where you’ll
instantly doze off, waking the next morning feeling particularly well-rested. A notorious insomniac myself, I occasionally use this bath
on nights when I’ll have only a few hours to sleep before getting up at some ungodly hour; I wake up feeling unusually alert and ready
to tackle the day that lies ahead, owed to getting more restful sleep in less time.
insomnia, anti-jet lag herbal bath with subduing lavender, warming and balancing fennel, clarifying cardamom, and the sweet sedative
(and anti-depressant) ylang ylang. Yet perhaps owed to the fact that this Bath Ballistic is smaller than most, its concoction of sleepy
time oils can at times be overly subtle, leading you to wonder if it will have any promised effect on your racing mind. Therefore, Waving
Not Drowning requires a bit of effort on your part (with one batch often requiring more effort than another): if you dim the lights, close
your eyes, and breathe deeply, you’ll succeed in picking up the sedative ball where Waving Not Drowning occasionally drops it. By the
end of your bath, you’ll want to wander straight to bed (avoiding bright lighting & all other “daytime” distractions on the way) where you’ll
instantly doze off, waking the next morning feeling particularly well-rested. A notorious insomniac myself, I occasionally use this bath
on nights when I’ll have only a few hours to sleep before getting up at some ungodly hour; I wake up feeling unusually alert and ready
to tackle the day that lies ahead, owed to getting more restful sleep in less time.
(Limited Edition for Christmas 2006) – Wish Upon A Star Bath Ballistic looks so unassuming what with its simple white appearance
offset by little more than a red star. But make a wish on this snowball of bath salts, and even as it goes on to leave the water
colourless with the plastic star's scarlet speckles instantly falling away in chips and shreds until it, too, turns dully clear, the subtly
sensational scent of musked pine oil is guaranteed to instantly calm and soothe your spirit. Me, I'm not even one for long baths to be
honest: it takes a truly spectacular bath to quiet my hyperactive nature. And yet Wish Upon A Star inspired me to cuddle up to a floating
bath pillow and have a wee snooze as the warm water cozily blanketed me. Clarity of mind and a grounding sense of inner peace
came upon me, and as I woke from my brief slumber (which was more like a resting of the ol' overworked eyeballs than actual sleep),
a tiny papered message floated past. "Your wish has been granted," it read. What a delight: my wish was that 2007 would turn out to
be my best year to date. And based on how refreshed I felt by the end of my New Year's Day encounter with Wish Upon A Star, thus far
that shred of paper has told me no lies. (Mind you, it's still January as I type. I'll give you an update at year's end.)
offset by little more than a red star. But make a wish on this snowball of bath salts, and even as it goes on to leave the water
colourless with the plastic star's scarlet speckles instantly falling away in chips and shreds until it, too, turns dully clear, the subtly
sensational scent of musked pine oil is guaranteed to instantly calm and soothe your spirit. Me, I'm not even one for long baths to be
honest: it takes a truly spectacular bath to quiet my hyperactive nature. And yet Wish Upon A Star inspired me to cuddle up to a floating
bath pillow and have a wee snooze as the warm water cozily blanketed me. Clarity of mind and a grounding sense of inner peace
came upon me, and as I woke from my brief slumber (which was more like a resting of the ol' overworked eyeballs than actual sleep),
a tiny papered message floated past. "Your wish has been granted," it read. What a delight: my wish was that 2007 would turn out to
be my best year to date. And based on how refreshed I felt by the end of my New Year's Day encounter with Wish Upon A Star, thus far
that shred of paper has told me no lies. (Mind you, it's still January as I type. I'll give you an update at year's end.)
(Discontinued in 2004) – Originally named "World Piece" when it was launched in Summer 2001 (that's them being punny as in "a
piece of the world"), in mid 2003, Lush looked around at our increasingly messy global state of affairs in general, and temporarily
changed this Bath Ballistic's name to "World Peace"; they decided that the need for it was no laughing matter! No more messing
about, they said! (In Autumn 2005, when they brought it back as part of their Forum Favourites limited edition batches, they changed
the name back to World Piece. Go figure!) But O, the sick irony! Shortly after the name was initially changed, Lush discontinued World
Peace, thereby forcing me to declare WAR! This is one of the all-time greatest Ballistics to ever fizz on earth. And speaking of Earth,
that's literally exactly what World Piece looks like: a blue globe (sea) with green spotches (land) representing an arial shot of our dear
planet. It releases a mesmerizing, deep blue-green hue & a small satin national flag that proudly waves along the water's rippling
surface. (Could be any flag, too. My last flag was Brazil--much needed to remind me of sea & sun at the end of a miserable, rainy day.)
A World Piece bath is best taken when you're feeling depressed, drained, or angry for an instant lift. Its primary oils are: peppermint (to
calm anger, hysteria, and nervousness while restoring vitality--also great for combating morning sickness), pine (to rejuvenate the
mind & to restore faith and courage), and cypress (to cleanse the spirit)--all hitting your olfactories in precisely that order, with
peppermint consistently taking centre stage. Come hell or high water, make sure you get your hands on this Bath Bomb! Then when a
foul mood creeps up on you, toss it into (preferably slightly cooler) bath water, put on your favourite CD of world music (personally, I
recommend Angélique Kidjo's "Black Ivory Soul") and jam out 'til you just can't jam no mo’. World peace, indeedy!
piece of the world"), in mid 2003, Lush looked around at our increasingly messy global state of affairs in general, and temporarily
changed this Bath Ballistic's name to "World Peace"; they decided that the need for it was no laughing matter! No more messing
about, they said! (In Autumn 2005, when they brought it back as part of their Forum Favourites limited edition batches, they changed
the name back to World Piece. Go figure!) But O, the sick irony! Shortly after the name was initially changed, Lush discontinued World
Peace, thereby forcing me to declare WAR! This is one of the all-time greatest Ballistics to ever fizz on earth. And speaking of Earth,
that's literally exactly what World Piece looks like: a blue globe (sea) with green spotches (land) representing an arial shot of our dear
planet. It releases a mesmerizing, deep blue-green hue & a small satin national flag that proudly waves along the water's rippling
surface. (Could be any flag, too. My last flag was Brazil--much needed to remind me of sea & sun at the end of a miserable, rainy day.)
A World Piece bath is best taken when you're feeling depressed, drained, or angry for an instant lift. Its primary oils are: peppermint (to
calm anger, hysteria, and nervousness while restoring vitality--also great for combating morning sickness), pine (to rejuvenate the
mind & to restore faith and courage), and cypress (to cleanse the spirit)--all hitting your olfactories in precisely that order, with
peppermint consistently taking centre stage. Come hell or high water, make sure you get your hands on this Bath Bomb! Then when a
foul mood creeps up on you, toss it into (preferably slightly cooler) bath water, put on your favourite CD of world music (personally, I
recommend Angélique Kidjo's "Black Ivory Soul") and jam out 'til you just can't jam no mo’. World peace, indeedy!
People often say that Lush's Youki-Hi Bath Ballistic, a peachy-pink ball of bath salts topped with gold glitter and dragon red sea salt
(launched to celebrate the Chinese New Year 4702, better known as 2005 to us westerners) smells exactly like Flying Fox. Sorry, but
they're wrong! What they're picking up on is a shared primary floral: jasmine. However, what the two products don't have in common is
loads of honey. This is a difference of great import, being that Flying Fox's copious combination of 3 types of honey tends to
hyper-aggressively bring out jasmine's sweeter side. Youki-Hi, on the other hand, works to bring out jasmine's headier bouquet right
from the get-go, while allowing additional subtle complexities (ylang ylang, cypress, and palmarossa) to softly harmonize with the
choir. So, for those who are put off by the rather overpowering notes in Flying Fox Shower Gel, don't let peoples' association of these
two fragrances hold you back from giving Youki-Hi a try. Simply put, Youki-Hi is nothing short of a masterpiece, and in my opinion,
never before have Lush made a Bath Bomb that was so perfect in every way, with every aspect of its flawlessness amassed in perfect
doses. The jasmine-based fragrance isn't overpowering, yet lingers with a calm intensity. Its colour is a lively but soothing pastel
peachy-pink, with a tiny fuschia globe amaranth flower released from its core. Golden sparkles leave a subtly elegant sheen on your
skin without creating an unnecessarily messy, gawdy scene. Flowers, sparkles, breathtaking fragrance...all that is unique, all that Lush
does best, presented to you with understated drama and consummate sophistication.
(launched to celebrate the Chinese New Year 4702, better known as 2005 to us westerners) smells exactly like Flying Fox. Sorry, but
they're wrong! What they're picking up on is a shared primary floral: jasmine. However, what the two products don't have in common is
loads of honey. This is a difference of great import, being that Flying Fox's copious combination of 3 types of honey tends to
hyper-aggressively bring out jasmine's sweeter side. Youki-Hi, on the other hand, works to bring out jasmine's headier bouquet right
from the get-go, while allowing additional subtle complexities (ylang ylang, cypress, and palmarossa) to softly harmonize with the
choir. So, for those who are put off by the rather overpowering notes in Flying Fox Shower Gel, don't let peoples' association of these
two fragrances hold you back from giving Youki-Hi a try. Simply put, Youki-Hi is nothing short of a masterpiece, and in my opinion,
never before have Lush made a Bath Bomb that was so perfect in every way, with every aspect of its flawlessness amassed in perfect
doses. The jasmine-based fragrance isn't overpowering, yet lingers with a calm intensity. Its colour is a lively but soothing pastel
peachy-pink, with a tiny fuschia globe amaranth flower released from its core. Golden sparkles leave a subtly elegant sheen on your
skin without creating an unnecessarily messy, gawdy scene. Flowers, sparkles, breathtaking fragrance...all that is unique, all that Lush
does best, presented to you with understated drama and consummate sophistication.
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