(Christmas 2002) – Dispersing a white, milky froth and pale pink sparkles as it fizzes away in the tub, this is Lush's tribute to actual
brandy butter (can you tell by the name?), a brandy and orange cream traditionally served with Christmas pudding in England (which,
for my fellow Yanks who define "pudding" quite differently, are domed, steamed cakes filled with dried fruits). And a perfectly scented
tribute it is. Much like a Butterball Bath Ballistic (but twice the size), Brandy Butter is packed with cocoa butter -- but this time, it's been
dipped in brandy. And where Butterball releases musk-scented cocoa butter in chunks, Brandy Butter releases it in the form of
cinnamon and orange spiced liquid oil. Initially, these are the two scents that take center stage, but over time, they settle into a
sensually light liqueur. An excellent bath when you're chilled to the bone and chapped from winter winds, Brandy Butter's oils instantly
restore lost moisture, its spices warm and calm, and its citrus tangerine oil rejuvenates. As for the pink sparkles, if you're not a glitter-
happy Lushie, don't fret. There really aren't enough of them to cause any problems; in this bath, their primary purpose is to decorate the
whitened water once the initial froth of oil fades. But this is a job that they just don't do well enough, in my opinion. While some are pink
to gold depending on how the light hits them, others are such a pale pink that they almost appear to be white, and with a rather matte
finish, they generally fail to glisten. The same is true of their appearance on your skin: the few strays that manage to sparsely adhere
themselves to your body generally look to be nothing more than tiny white "hey, you have a little something on your arm" specks that
appear to have nothing to do with glitter at all. This is a small complaint, however, in light of how wonderfully intensive the body
treatment, with Brandy Butter's aromatic and skin care properties living up to their end of the bargain and then going beyond the call of
duty to the point where those with oilier skin can easily get two baths from one of these Ballistics.
brandy butter (can you tell by the name?), a brandy and orange cream traditionally served with Christmas pudding in England (which,
for my fellow Yanks who define "pudding" quite differently, are domed, steamed cakes filled with dried fruits). And a perfectly scented
tribute it is. Much like a Butterball Bath Ballistic (but twice the size), Brandy Butter is packed with cocoa butter -- but this time, it's been
dipped in brandy. And where Butterball releases musk-scented cocoa butter in chunks, Brandy Butter releases it in the form of
cinnamon and orange spiced liquid oil. Initially, these are the two scents that take center stage, but over time, they settle into a
sensually light liqueur. An excellent bath when you're chilled to the bone and chapped from winter winds, Brandy Butter's oils instantly
restore lost moisture, its spices warm and calm, and its citrus tangerine oil rejuvenates. As for the pink sparkles, if you're not a glitter-
happy Lushie, don't fret. There really aren't enough of them to cause any problems; in this bath, their primary purpose is to decorate the
whitened water once the initial froth of oil fades. But this is a job that they just don't do well enough, in my opinion. While some are pink
to gold depending on how the light hits them, others are such a pale pink that they almost appear to be white, and with a rather matte
finish, they generally fail to glisten. The same is true of their appearance on your skin: the few strays that manage to sparsely adhere
themselves to your body generally look to be nothing more than tiny white "hey, you have a little something on your arm" specks that
appear to have nothing to do with glitter at all. This is a small complaint, however, in light of how wonderfully intensive the body
treatment, with Brandy Butter's aromatic and skin care properties living up to their end of the bargain and then going beyond the call of
duty to the point where those with oilier skin can easily get two baths from one of these Ballistics.
(Christmas 2001) – Chilly Bon Bom was created to help us get out of bed on cold, dark winter mornings. And for those of us who tend
to be subhuman before we've had a rather high dose of caffeine (preferably served as a double shot of espresso, administered
intravenously), it doesn't hurt to have our first encounter of the day with a smiling snowman. Even if you're so poorly that his cuteness
alone fails to instantly bring a smile to your face, instead of biting another person's head off, you can at least take your early morning
evilness out on this guy by throwing him into water, all the while cackling like a witch as you watch him die! And you don't have to worry
about his feelings because he knows his painless death serves a myriad excellent purposes. Though visually he doesn't do much for
the bath once he fizzes and melts away in the water's warmth, both fresh lemongrass and spicy jacaranda oil from the Brazilian
evergreen tree sneak up your nostrils and into your brain, instantly clearing out the cobwebs and brightening your outlook on the day
ahead. At first, the fragrance is more green than citrus, what with sweet, wild grass palmarossa rushing in to turn this snowman bath
into more of an aromatic picture of springtime. But as time goes on, lemongrass's citrus aspect wins out over its green grassy-ness
by a nose, thanks to Lush adding an additional shot of lemon to back it up. Not only is this one of the best baths ever by Lush for early
winter mornings, but it also makes for an excellent anti-jet lag remedy no matter the season. Plus, it also works surprisingly well at
fighting off those head and tummy aches the morning after overindulgence -- a sin we're all guilty of during the holidays! And as if that
weren't enough, Mr. Chilly's oils not only stimulate circulation and cell regeneration while toning the skin and reducing bloating due to
water retention, but they also help in relieving achy, swollen joints, making this the bath of choice for those whose arthritic symptoms
tend to increase when met with cold, damp weather. A jack of all trades, Mr. Chilly's arrival is perfectly timed, and I highly recommend
that you stock up on as many of these friendly little guys as possible to take you right through winter and beyond. Note: In North
America, Chilly Bon Bom was only available in gift sets, namely Golden Friendsy, Stocking Fella, A Brace of Snowmen, and
Three Wise Men, with the latter two gifts containing nothing more than two and three Chilly Bon Bom Bath Ballistics respectively.
Additionally, the precursor of this bath was Green Man Bath Ballistic. Both of these baths then later went on to serve as the precursor of
the currently sold Avobath Bath Ballistic. So if you like any one of these products, you'll no doubt also enjoy the other two, as well!
to be subhuman before we've had a rather high dose of caffeine (preferably served as a double shot of espresso, administered
intravenously), it doesn't hurt to have our first encounter of the day with a smiling snowman. Even if you're so poorly that his cuteness
alone fails to instantly bring a smile to your face, instead of biting another person's head off, you can at least take your early morning
evilness out on this guy by throwing him into water, all the while cackling like a witch as you watch him die! And you don't have to worry
about his feelings because he knows his painless death serves a myriad excellent purposes. Though visually he doesn't do much for
the bath once he fizzes and melts away in the water's warmth, both fresh lemongrass and spicy jacaranda oil from the Brazilian
evergreen tree sneak up your nostrils and into your brain, instantly clearing out the cobwebs and brightening your outlook on the day
ahead. At first, the fragrance is more green than citrus, what with sweet, wild grass palmarossa rushing in to turn this snowman bath
into more of an aromatic picture of springtime. But as time goes on, lemongrass's citrus aspect wins out over its green grassy-ness
by a nose, thanks to Lush adding an additional shot of lemon to back it up. Not only is this one of the best baths ever by Lush for early
winter mornings, but it also makes for an excellent anti-jet lag remedy no matter the season. Plus, it also works surprisingly well at
fighting off those head and tummy aches the morning after overindulgence -- a sin we're all guilty of during the holidays! And as if that
weren't enough, Mr. Chilly's oils not only stimulate circulation and cell regeneration while toning the skin and reducing bloating due to
water retention, but they also help in relieving achy, swollen joints, making this the bath of choice for those whose arthritic symptoms
tend to increase when met with cold, damp weather. A jack of all trades, Mr. Chilly's arrival is perfectly timed, and I highly recommend
that you stock up on as many of these friendly little guys as possible to take you right through winter and beyond. Note: In North
America, Chilly Bon Bom was only available in gift sets, namely Golden Friendsy, Stocking Fella, A Brace of Snowmen, and
Three Wise Men, with the latter two gifts containing nothing more than two and three Chilly Bon Bom Bath Ballistics respectively.
Additionally, the precursor of this bath was Green Man Bath Ballistic. Both of these baths then later went on to serve as the precursor of
the currently sold Avobath Bath Ballistic. So if you like any one of these products, you'll no doubt also enjoy the other two, as well!
(Christmas 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006) – Christmas Carol Bath Ballistic is Lush's year-round Fairy Jasmine Bath Ballistic in a limited
edition angel shape, complete with wings. (In fact, for Christmas 2002, she was actually named Fairy Jasmine With Wings.) In the
shop, she is scented with Queen of the Night jasmine and sweet ylang ylang, with a dash of sultry vetivert. In the bath, however, what
begins as a femininely powdery scent consistently errs on the side of subtlety. But depending on what you're looking to achieve, don't
be too quick to write this beauty of a bath off. Sure, you mightn't get much fragrance (due to the sheer expense of jasmine absolute
combined with the fact that this 130g bath is only two thirds the size of her already subtly scented big sister, Fairy Jasmine). but what
you do get is glitter galore and water that glistens to the point where you think you've died and gone to heaven, a team of A-list angels
having decorated the place to make it all that much more beautiful in celebration of your arrival. This makes Christmas Carol a
fabulous bath for gussying yourself for a Christmas party: for those nights when you want to paint the town red, Christmas Carol will
evenly paint your entire body with gold, pink, pastel green, and iridescent glitter (and if you dunk your head into the water, she'll not only
paint your hair as well, but she'll leave it super soft and shiny). And she'll do all of this not just for one night, but for several days (and
when it comes to your home and all who pass through it, possibly years) on end. Unfortunately, however, some batches of the 2006
edition additionally dress you in sharply shredded plastic confetti normally found in Lush's Christmas Party Bath Ballistic. Not only do
these shards of glass-like confetti look and feel fairly awkward on the skin, but Lush also appear to have replaced some of the glitter
content with these misshapen scraps. Mind you, this sparkle-rific bath is not for the timid: if you're not the glittering type (who, in the
case of the 2006 Christmas Carol is also pro-shrapnel), then you are warned to bath with Christmas Carol at your own risk.
Otherwise, you may conclude all too late that this glittering angel is actually the devil in disguise!
edition angel shape, complete with wings. (In fact, for Christmas 2002, she was actually named Fairy Jasmine With Wings.) In the
shop, she is scented with Queen of the Night jasmine and sweet ylang ylang, with a dash of sultry vetivert. In the bath, however, what
begins as a femininely powdery scent consistently errs on the side of subtlety. But depending on what you're looking to achieve, don't
be too quick to write this beauty of a bath off. Sure, you mightn't get much fragrance (due to the sheer expense of jasmine absolute
combined with the fact that this 130g bath is only two thirds the size of her already subtly scented big sister, Fairy Jasmine). but what
you do get is glitter galore and water that glistens to the point where you think you've died and gone to heaven, a team of A-list angels
having decorated the place to make it all that much more beautiful in celebration of your arrival. This makes Christmas Carol a
fabulous bath for gussying yourself for a Christmas party: for those nights when you want to paint the town red, Christmas Carol will
evenly paint your entire body with gold, pink, pastel green, and iridescent glitter (and if you dunk your head into the water, she'll not only
paint your hair as well, but she'll leave it super soft and shiny). And she'll do all of this not just for one night, but for several days (and
when it comes to your home and all who pass through it, possibly years) on end. Unfortunately, however, some batches of the 2006
edition additionally dress you in sharply shredded plastic confetti normally found in Lush's Christmas Party Bath Ballistic. Not only do
these shards of glass-like confetti look and feel fairly awkward on the skin, but Lush also appear to have replaced some of the glitter
content with these misshapen scraps. Mind you, this sparkle-rific bath is not for the timid: if you're not the glittering type (who, in the
case of the 2006 Christmas Carol is also pro-shrapnel), then you are warned to bath with Christmas Carol at your own risk.
Otherwise, you may conclude all too late that this glittering angel is actually the devil in disguise!
(Christmas 2003, 2004) – Do NOT take this bath without a glass (nay, bottle) of champagne at tubside. First, you'll need it to
supplement this bath bomb's gorgeous but irritatingly short-lived champagne mimosa scent. Second, if you drink enough plonk, the
resulting intoxication might distract you from the shards of irridescent confetti that poke and prod your body. (Message to Lush: stop
putting shrapnel in your products! Aside from the "ouch" factor, there's also the "you've got something on your face/arm/etc" factor:
when these rather large chunks of misshapen scraps randomly stick to our bodies, I assure you they present more of a fashion
question than a fashion statement!) But don't get me wrong. The idea behind Christmas Party is a very good one: loads of various
multi-coloured stars & confetti do indeed turn bathtime into a festive occasion, especially when combined with the celebratory scent of
champagne & tangerines. As it stands now, however, the actual result of that brilliant idea leaves much to be desired.
supplement this bath bomb's gorgeous but irritatingly short-lived champagne mimosa scent. Second, if you drink enough plonk, the
resulting intoxication might distract you from the shards of irridescent confetti that poke and prod your body. (Message to Lush: stop
putting shrapnel in your products! Aside from the "ouch" factor, there's also the "you've got something on your face/arm/etc" factor:
when these rather large chunks of misshapen scraps randomly stick to our bodies, I assure you they present more of a fashion
question than a fashion statement!) But don't get me wrong. The idea behind Christmas Party is a very good one: loads of various
multi-coloured stars & confetti do indeed turn bathtime into a festive occasion, especially when combined with the celebratory scent of
champagne & tangerines. As it stands now, however, the actual result of that brilliant idea leaves much to be desired.
(Christmas 2005 and 2006) – When Lush was first designing their Christmas Party Bath Ballistic way back in 2003, the "beta" version
was orange. Product testers complained that it turned their legs yellow, and so it was switched to white. (And someone actually gave
me one of those things -- I still have it; I'm too afraid to use it!) Two years later, Lush finally found a way around their colour problem,
and ever since, our old white Christmas Party has presented itself in a shade of pinked peach (and no, it doesn't stain your legs). But
here's my question: why make the effort to solve that problem when the solution is just a murky, pale pee-yellow bath? Meanwhile,
they bothered to change the colour, but they've never changed the things that we Lushies complain about most: first, there's the quick
thin-out of Bucks Fizz fragrance, as once dissolved in the water, Christmas Party trades out fizzing champagne and grenadine for a
simple glass of watered down orange juice. And second...well, how's this for a story? I gave this bath (via a gift box) to a friend of
mine. She shared it with her husband, and here are some excerpts from their bath time conversation as recalled by her: "Watch out!
There's a really pointy one headed right for you!" "Ouch! I think something bit my crotch!" (And just as her husband laughed at her,
something bit his you-know-what, too. Serves him right!) She told me the next day, "it was like we were sitting in a big bowl of
discomfort!" Yes, never before was the term "bath bomb" so appropriate. Lush not only gives you a bomb, but packing it with razor-
edged shredded plastic confetti and sturdy stars of varying sizes, they also inadvertently include shards of glass from blown out
windows, topping it all off with a hefty heap of shurikens. Even after a post-bath rinse, the possibility remains that you'll continue to find
misshapen glass splinters -- the few that refuse to surrender appearing as unsightly randomly placed scraps and smudges --
stubbornly poking at your flesh. Frankly, there's only one creature I know who manages to get any enjoyment out of Christmas Party's
prickly bits and bobs. (Click HERE to see this madwoman's photo!)
was orange. Product testers complained that it turned their legs yellow, and so it was switched to white. (And someone actually gave
me one of those things -- I still have it; I'm too afraid to use it!) Two years later, Lush finally found a way around their colour problem,
and ever since, our old white Christmas Party has presented itself in a shade of pinked peach (and no, it doesn't stain your legs). But
here's my question: why make the effort to solve that problem when the solution is just a murky, pale pee-yellow bath? Meanwhile,
they bothered to change the colour, but they've never changed the things that we Lushies complain about most: first, there's the quick
thin-out of Bucks Fizz fragrance, as once dissolved in the water, Christmas Party trades out fizzing champagne and grenadine for a
simple glass of watered down orange juice. And second...well, how's this for a story? I gave this bath (via a gift box) to a friend of
mine. She shared it with her husband, and here are some excerpts from their bath time conversation as recalled by her: "Watch out!
There's a really pointy one headed right for you!" "Ouch! I think something bit my crotch!" (And just as her husband laughed at her,
something bit his you-know-what, too. Serves him right!) She told me the next day, "it was like we were sitting in a big bowl of
discomfort!" Yes, never before was the term "bath bomb" so appropriate. Lush not only gives you a bomb, but packing it with razor-
edged shredded plastic confetti and sturdy stars of varying sizes, they also inadvertently include shards of glass from blown out
windows, topping it all off with a hefty heap of shurikens. Even after a post-bath rinse, the possibility remains that you'll continue to find
misshapen glass splinters -- the few that refuse to surrender appearing as unsightly randomly placed scraps and smudges --
stubbornly poking at your flesh. Frankly, there's only one creature I know who manages to get any enjoyment out of Christmas Party's
prickly bits and bobs. (Click HERE to see this madwoman's photo!)
(Christmas 2002) – In 2002, Lush's Fairy Jasmine Bath Ballistic got a Christmas makeover, becoming Fairy Jasmine With Wings: a
Fairy Jasmine scented angel complete with a pair of wings (as if you couldn't have guessed by the name). With this being bit too
predictable for Lush's taste, they changed her name to Christmas Carol in 2003, under which she has made annual returns ever
since. In the shop, she is scented with Queen of the Night jasmine and sweet ylang ylang, with a dash of sultry vetivert. In the bath,
however, what begins as a femininely powdery scent consistently errs on the side of subtlety. But depending on what you're looking to
achieve, don't be too quick to write this beauty of a bath off. Sure, you mightn't get much fragrance (due to the sheer expense of
jasmine absolute combined with the fact that this 130g bath is only two thirds the size of her already subtly scented big sister, Fairy
Jasmine). But what you do get is glitter galore and water that glistens to the point where you think you've died and gone to heaven, a
team of A-list angels having decorated the place to make it all that much more beautiful in celebration of your arrival. This makes Fairy
Jasmine With Wings a fabulous bath for gussying yourself for a Christmas party: for those nights when you want to paint the town red,
this lady will evenly paint your entire body with gold, pink, pastel green, and iridescent glitter (and if you dunk your head into the water,
she'll not only paint your hair as well, but she'll leave it super soft and shiny). And she'll do all of this not just for one night, but for
several days on end. In fact, a year or two later, you'll still occasionally find specks of fairy dust on your clothes and around your house,
as well. Mind you, this sparkle-rific bath is not for the timid: if you're not the pro-glitter type, then you are warned to use Fairy Jasmine
With Wings at your own risk. Otherwise, you may conclude all too late that this glistening angel is actually the devil in disguise!
Fairy Jasmine scented angel complete with a pair of wings (as if you couldn't have guessed by the name). With this being bit too
predictable for Lush's taste, they changed her name to Christmas Carol in 2003, under which she has made annual returns ever
since. In the shop, she is scented with Queen of the Night jasmine and sweet ylang ylang, with a dash of sultry vetivert. In the bath,
however, what begins as a femininely powdery scent consistently errs on the side of subtlety. But depending on what you're looking to
achieve, don't be too quick to write this beauty of a bath off. Sure, you mightn't get much fragrance (due to the sheer expense of
jasmine absolute combined with the fact that this 130g bath is only two thirds the size of her already subtly scented big sister, Fairy
Jasmine). But what you do get is glitter galore and water that glistens to the point where you think you've died and gone to heaven, a
team of A-list angels having decorated the place to make it all that much more beautiful in celebration of your arrival. This makes Fairy
Jasmine With Wings a fabulous bath for gussying yourself for a Christmas party: for those nights when you want to paint the town red,
this lady will evenly paint your entire body with gold, pink, pastel green, and iridescent glitter (and if you dunk your head into the water,
she'll not only paint your hair as well, but she'll leave it super soft and shiny). And she'll do all of this not just for one night, but for
several days on end. In fact, a year or two later, you'll still occasionally find specks of fairy dust on your clothes and around your house,
as well. Mind you, this sparkle-rific bath is not for the timid: if you're not the pro-glitter type, then you are warned to use Fairy Jasmine
With Wings at your own risk. Otherwise, you may conclude all too late that this glistening angel is actually the devil in disguise!
(Christmas 2006) – For Christmas 2006, Lush's year-round Avobath Bath Ballistic got a makeover: she became a half sized 100g
guardian angel, complete with the power to moisturise your skin with nourishing, vitamin-E rich avocado and olive oil, elevate your
mood with spiced citrus lemongrass and bergamot, and brighten your outlook (literally) by immersing you in vibrant, colour therapeutic
green (the symbol of life and rebirth) and a subtle golden shimmer that occasionally catches your fascinated eye (but does not catch
onto your skin). This is the perfect bath for people with Seasonal Affective Disorder who, in the chilled darkness of winter require the
occasional reminder that spring will soon be on its way. Whether taken in the early morning to give you a reason to crawl out from
beneath your cozy blankets to face the day ahead or taken in the early evening to give you a reason to crawl out from beneath the stress
and strain of the day gone before, Green Wing is most definitely your girl, an angel in no way disguised.
guardian angel, complete with the power to moisturise your skin with nourishing, vitamin-E rich avocado and olive oil, elevate your
mood with spiced citrus lemongrass and bergamot, and brighten your outlook (literally) by immersing you in vibrant, colour therapeutic
green (the symbol of life and rebirth) and a subtle golden shimmer that occasionally catches your fascinated eye (but does not catch
onto your skin). This is the perfect bath for people with Seasonal Affective Disorder who, in the chilled darkness of winter require the
occasional reminder that spring will soon be on its way. Whether taken in the early morning to give you a reason to crawl out from
beneath your cozy blankets to face the day ahead or taken in the early evening to give you a reason to crawl out from beneath the stress
and strain of the day gone before, Green Wing is most definitely your girl, an angel in no way disguised.
(Christmas 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006) – In my opinion, this is Lush's all-time most beautiful Christmas bath. A purple bath
filled with tiny silver & gold stars, you feel like your body is riding the violet spectrum of an Arctic aurora. And the bee-you-tee-ful scent:
detoxifying, sweet juniperberry (a component of gin) gives you a fruity, party-rific scent with spicy kick, while tangerine adds some
wakey-wakey zing. Of course, this makes a great pre-party bath, but ultimately, this really is the bath for the morning after you've
overdone overindulgence: Jingle Spells helps you to overcome fatigue, bloating, upset tummies, headaches, and all the other evil side
effects that come with partying hardily. Plus, it looks stunning & smells amazing. Dunk your whole head into the bath and not only will
the water--even in hard water areas--soften your unruly hair, but your locks will smell luscious until your next bath the following day.
filled with tiny silver & gold stars, you feel like your body is riding the violet spectrum of an Arctic aurora. And the bee-you-tee-ful scent:
detoxifying, sweet juniperberry (a component of gin) gives you a fruity, party-rific scent with spicy kick, while tangerine adds some
wakey-wakey zing. Of course, this makes a great pre-party bath, but ultimately, this really is the bath for the morning after you've
overdone overindulgence: Jingle Spells helps you to overcome fatigue, bloating, upset tummies, headaches, and all the other evil side
effects that come with partying hardily. Plus, it looks stunning & smells amazing. Dunk your whole head into the bath and not only will
the water--even in hard water areas--soften your unruly hair, but your locks will smell luscious until your next bath the following day.
(Christmas 2004) – A small, elegant, white snowball of a Bath Ballistic decorated in green candied holly leaves, Kissletoes possesses
a rather generic cinnamon and orange seasonal fragrance with a discreetly sporty, musky note eminating from its perfume ingredient
in an attempt to keep things interesting. But sadly, this winds up not being quite enough to keep you from singing "hum drum pa pum
pum" whilst immersed in this unnecessarily unexciting Christmas bath. Sure, in solid form, this tiny 1/2-sized Ballistic looks and
smells lovely enough, but once it hits the water, the scent is quick to fade, while the water remains blandly colourless. Ironically,
Kissletoes' only saving grace is it's rather boring "been-there-done-that" scented simplicity: being so small and weak, it requires a bit
of a fragrant boost, which is easily achieved by combining it with another Lush product to create a "bath cocktail." Because Kissletoes'
overall scent leans more towards musky orange, it can be combined with most of Lush's spicier baths (such as Bollywood Bath
Ballistic or the limited edition Christmas Cracker Bubble Bar from the same year). Otherwise, Kissletoes, in my opinion, is worth a
pass, ultimately having very little to offer on its own.
a rather generic cinnamon and orange seasonal fragrance with a discreetly sporty, musky note eminating from its perfume ingredient
in an attempt to keep things interesting. But sadly, this winds up not being quite enough to keep you from singing "hum drum pa pum
pum" whilst immersed in this unnecessarily unexciting Christmas bath. Sure, in solid form, this tiny 1/2-sized Ballistic looks and
smells lovely enough, but once it hits the water, the scent is quick to fade, while the water remains blandly colourless. Ironically,
Kissletoes' only saving grace is it's rather boring "been-there-done-that" scented simplicity: being so small and weak, it requires a bit
of a fragrant boost, which is easily achieved by combining it with another Lush product to create a "bath cocktail." Because Kissletoes'
overall scent leans more towards musky orange, it can be combined with most of Lush's spicier baths (such as Bollywood Bath
Ballistic or the limited edition Christmas Cracker Bubble Bar from the same year). Otherwise, Kissletoes, in my opinion, is worth a
pass, ultimately having very little to offer on its own.
(Christmas 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003) – Being that I'm a lavender junkie, going by this Bath Ballistic's name alone I just assumed I'd
lurve Lush's Lavender Blissard (most commonly sold wrapped as Lush's Lavender Snowflower Gift) to bits. Bits. Yes, baby got bits: a
snow white Ballistic with dried lavender bits sprinkled on top, it hits the water & within seconds your bathtub looks like it's been taken
over by small bugs that zip around on the water's surface. No colour, just bugs. This does not look attractive, and for bug phobes the
world over, it can even look mighty scary. Fortunately, I was able to find closed-eyed solace in the scent of lavender oil, if only for a brief
while: as time went on, the scent began to change. First, lavender was joined by sandalwood oil, and then both were overwhelmed by
another scent that I couldn't quite put my finger on. What on earth was this overwhelmingly artificial-smelling, powdery perfume-y
fragrance?!? Well, I looked at the list of ingredients, and fact is, the all-encompassing, generic ingredient of "perfume" (written in black,
which means it does indeed contain artificial ingredients of some sort) takes precedence over lavender oil. Some people might prefer
this artificial perfume to lavender oil, in which case, they should feel free to add a cocktail to my rating. I, on the other hand, didn't
entirely enjoy being bombarded by synthetic perfume for the remainder of the evening -- especially since one of its ingredients
screamed "wakey-wakey" despite Lush recommending this bath for calming the nerves & helping you to get a good night's sleep.
lurve Lush's Lavender Blissard (most commonly sold wrapped as Lush's Lavender Snowflower Gift) to bits. Bits. Yes, baby got bits: a
snow white Ballistic with dried lavender bits sprinkled on top, it hits the water & within seconds your bathtub looks like it's been taken
over by small bugs that zip around on the water's surface. No colour, just bugs. This does not look attractive, and for bug phobes the
world over, it can even look mighty scary. Fortunately, I was able to find closed-eyed solace in the scent of lavender oil, if only for a brief
while: as time went on, the scent began to change. First, lavender was joined by sandalwood oil, and then both were overwhelmed by
another scent that I couldn't quite put my finger on. What on earth was this overwhelmingly artificial-smelling, powdery perfume-y
fragrance?!? Well, I looked at the list of ingredients, and fact is, the all-encompassing, generic ingredient of "perfume" (written in black,
which means it does indeed contain artificial ingredients of some sort) takes precedence over lavender oil. Some people might prefer
this artificial perfume to lavender oil, in which case, they should feel free to add a cocktail to my rating. I, on the other hand, didn't
entirely enjoy being bombarded by synthetic perfume for the remainder of the evening -- especially since one of its ingredients
screamed "wakey-wakey" despite Lush recommending this bath for calming the nerves & helping you to get a good night's sleep.
(Lush North America version with candy letters, Christmas 2005) – Initially, as it was being designed, Letters To Santa was simply
going to be a spicy bath bomb with candy letters on top. But then Lush got to thinking and made a few changes. By the time it was
launched, Letters To Santa Bath Ballistic became a yellowish-green bath packed with punny foam letters that you could play with and
stick to the sides of the tub. However, for some reason, the North American arm of British-based Lush decided to go with the original
plan of candy letters as well as the original colour ingredients, and they never looked back. (They should have.) You, on the other hand,
can look below this review to read about the lovely foam lettered British version of this Christmas 2005 bath, complete with picture. Cuz
for now, while you're looking straight ahead, I'm going to review the candy version from Lush NA. And what a dreadful little affair it is. As
soon as it hits the water, it instantly releases a nasty brownish-yellow foam onto the surface of the water. This happens with the UK
version as well, but to a far lesser degree: with the UK Letters To Santa, this brown residue is easily wiped away before it rushes to
the sides of your tub. Not so with the NA version, which didn't just leave hard-to-scrub caca stains around the bath, but even managed
to permanently discolour my white vinyl bath pillow. Once completely dissolved, the water was a highly unattractive dark brownish-
green, with only three little candy letters floating about. Just three?!?! Aw well, never mind. My first Lush NA Letters To Santa came with
two M's and a 6, so I decided that since my first name begins with M, and I live near the M6 in England, my letter to Santa would simply
give him directions to my house. But just when I'd rationalized this paltry gimmick to the point of "fair enough", those letters decided to
turn into globs of goo instead of dissolving (like sugar candy should do). I honestly must question the edibility of these little letters, as I
couldn't even get them to dissolve in a piping hot bath by desperately squishing them between my fingers. For the next 20 minutes,
they simply floated about in red and blue streaks much the same consistency of nasal mucous. (See, that? I could have said snot, but
I'm trying to be discreetly diplomatic!) So now I'm sitting in greenish filth and...aw heck, okay, some really colourful snots. But my
Christmas spirit would not be broken: I had already bathed with the UK version of Letters To Santa, and I found its fragrance so
addictive that I couldn't bring myself to leave the tub. So, I tried to ignore the visuals and relish the scent, closing my eyes and sinking
down into the water (against my better judgment). Sadly, though, this otherwise delicious, spiced scent of cinnamon, clove, black
pepper, and orange oils oddly lacked both the enduring strength and intrigue of the UK's Letters To Santa. And so, I had no choice but
to quickly end my North American lettter writing campaign. With Christmas upon us, you have been officially warned: send this
particular letter to Santa and he will see it as a slight, promptly sending it back with a "return to sender" stamp on it. (And goodness
only knows what he'll put under your tree as punishment when he makes his rounds come Christmas Eve.)
going to be a spicy bath bomb with candy letters on top. But then Lush got to thinking and made a few changes. By the time it was
launched, Letters To Santa Bath Ballistic became a yellowish-green bath packed with punny foam letters that you could play with and
stick to the sides of the tub. However, for some reason, the North American arm of British-based Lush decided to go with the original
plan of candy letters as well as the original colour ingredients, and they never looked back. (They should have.) You, on the other hand,
can look below this review to read about the lovely foam lettered British version of this Christmas 2005 bath, complete with picture. Cuz
for now, while you're looking straight ahead, I'm going to review the candy version from Lush NA. And what a dreadful little affair it is. As
soon as it hits the water, it instantly releases a nasty brownish-yellow foam onto the surface of the water. This happens with the UK
version as well, but to a far lesser degree: with the UK Letters To Santa, this brown residue is easily wiped away before it rushes to
the sides of your tub. Not so with the NA version, which didn't just leave hard-to-scrub caca stains around the bath, but even managed
to permanently discolour my white vinyl bath pillow. Once completely dissolved, the water was a highly unattractive dark brownish-
green, with only three little candy letters floating about. Just three?!?! Aw well, never mind. My first Lush NA Letters To Santa came with
two M's and a 6, so I decided that since my first name begins with M, and I live near the M6 in England, my letter to Santa would simply
give him directions to my house. But just when I'd rationalized this paltry gimmick to the point of "fair enough", those letters decided to
turn into globs of goo instead of dissolving (like sugar candy should do). I honestly must question the edibility of these little letters, as I
couldn't even get them to dissolve in a piping hot bath by desperately squishing them between my fingers. For the next 20 minutes,
they simply floated about in red and blue streaks much the same consistency of nasal mucous. (See, that? I could have said snot, but
I'm trying to be discreetly diplomatic!) So now I'm sitting in greenish filth and...aw heck, okay, some really colourful snots. But my
Christmas spirit would not be broken: I had already bathed with the UK version of Letters To Santa, and I found its fragrance so
addictive that I couldn't bring myself to leave the tub. So, I tried to ignore the visuals and relish the scent, closing my eyes and sinking
down into the water (against my better judgment). Sadly, though, this otherwise delicious, spiced scent of cinnamon, clove, black
pepper, and orange oils oddly lacked both the enduring strength and intrigue of the UK's Letters To Santa. And so, I had no choice but
to quickly end my North American lettter writing campaign. With Christmas upon us, you have been officially warned: send this
particular letter to Santa and he will see it as a slight, promptly sending it back with a "return to sender" stamp on it. (And goodness
only knows what he'll put under your tree as punishment when he makes his rounds come Christmas Eve.)
(Lush UK version with foam letters, Christmas 2005) – As you've perhaps already read above, Christmas 2005's Letters To Santa Bath
Ballistic was sold in two variations across the International Lush markets. In North America, it was a brownish-green ball of dread,
topped with 3 measly candy letters that, like the eyes of a marshmallow Peep, are frighteningly water insoluble. (Marshmallow Peep
eyes are also insoluble in acid, but I've not yet run acidic tests on those candy letters. If I ever do, you'll be the first to read the scientific
results of that experiment.) In the UK and elsewhere, however, Letters To Santa was actually quite lovely: a yellowish-green Bath
Ballistic with large foam letters (reminiscent of your beloved Fisher Price toys as a child) peaking out of it. Yes, these letters are a bit
silly: even with the foam letter version of this bath, you generally only get about 3 letters...or in my case (repeatedly), 1 letter and halves
of torn, dismembered letters. (My first UK Letters To Santa bath contained a U, a comma -- or an apostrophe depending on how you
want to look at it -- and halves of what appeared to have once been an O and a K. I was disappointed indeed, but I still stuck them to
the side of the tub with a smirk and cockily decided I'd start my letter to Santa with a demanding "OK, U!") Yet even as I mumbled
"stupid gimmick" under my breath, I was chuffed enough to be sitting in a lively pool of spring green water (even if it does start out with
a highly unattractive brown foam on its surface, easily coaxed into submission with a few swipes of your hand) and the deliciously
warming, spicy fragrance of cinnamon, cloves, pepper, and a dash of sweet orange to cheer me. (The aforementioned ingredients are
also shared by Lush's Bollywood Bath Ballistic; though the two do not share the same exact overall fragrance, they're certainly similar
enough so that if you like one, you'll like the other!) This antidepressant fragrance immediately uplifts you: the mind is soothed, achy
muscles and chilled joints are instantly warmed, and the 10-ton weight of holiday (and family and life) stresses are completely
removed from your shoulders. Thanks to these aromatherapeutic advantages, time and time again, I find it difficult to pull myself out of
this bath...even as I'm waving away brown froth while those displayed torn up letters ruthlessly mock me. (Note, however, that this bath
is better taken in the morning or before a night out, as its fragrance is quite stimulating...to the point where its aromatherapeutic
benefits can easily backfire if taken within a few hours of bedtime!)
Ballistic was sold in two variations across the International Lush markets. In North America, it was a brownish-green ball of dread,
topped with 3 measly candy letters that, like the eyes of a marshmallow Peep, are frighteningly water insoluble. (Marshmallow Peep
eyes are also insoluble in acid, but I've not yet run acidic tests on those candy letters. If I ever do, you'll be the first to read the scientific
results of that experiment.) In the UK and elsewhere, however, Letters To Santa was actually quite lovely: a yellowish-green Bath
Ballistic with large foam letters (reminiscent of your beloved Fisher Price toys as a child) peaking out of it. Yes, these letters are a bit
silly: even with the foam letter version of this bath, you generally only get about 3 letters...or in my case (repeatedly), 1 letter and halves
of torn, dismembered letters. (My first UK Letters To Santa bath contained a U, a comma -- or an apostrophe depending on how you
want to look at it -- and halves of what appeared to have once been an O and a K. I was disappointed indeed, but I still stuck them to
the side of the tub with a smirk and cockily decided I'd start my letter to Santa with a demanding "OK, U!") Yet even as I mumbled
"stupid gimmick" under my breath, I was chuffed enough to be sitting in a lively pool of spring green water (even if it does start out with
a highly unattractive brown foam on its surface, easily coaxed into submission with a few swipes of your hand) and the deliciously
warming, spicy fragrance of cinnamon, cloves, pepper, and a dash of sweet orange to cheer me. (The aforementioned ingredients are
also shared by Lush's Bollywood Bath Ballistic; though the two do not share the same exact overall fragrance, they're certainly similar
enough so that if you like one, you'll like the other!) This antidepressant fragrance immediately uplifts you: the mind is soothed, achy
muscles and chilled joints are instantly warmed, and the 10-ton weight of holiday (and family and life) stresses are completely
removed from your shoulders. Thanks to these aromatherapeutic advantages, time and time again, I find it difficult to pull myself out of
this bath...even as I'm waving away brown froth while those displayed torn up letters ruthlessly mock me. (Note, however, that this bath
is better taken in the morning or before a night out, as its fragrance is quite stimulating...to the point where its aromatherapeutic
benefits can easily backfire if taken within a few hours of bedtime!)
(Christmas 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, and renamed Puddy Holly for Christmas 2006) – I've always found this Bath Ballistic to be a
might disappointing, as its fragrance generally falls flat once it hits the water. This year, however, I decided to take a risk in the name
of beauty (also known as my desperate search for a waistline) and opted to give Lush Pud a promotion in spite of myself: no longer
just a bath, it officially became a dessert replacement on the big two-five. That's right, folks. After my Christmas dinner, I opted out of
dessert and took a Lush Pud bath instead. (Call me crazy and you'd be right.) But for once (out of 5 years and twice as many Lush
Puds), I finally found myself pleasantly surprised by this bath: the sweet, spiced citrus scent of Christmas pudding filled the air and did
so 'til bedtime, smelling so real that it was hard to believe it was calorie-free. I didn't eat pudding; I became pudding, dahling. Later that
night, when relatives complained that they felt like bloated cows, the mature side of my aging character got the best of me as I
consoled them with "nya-nya-nya-nya-nya!" Yes, I was fit as a fiddle, smelled scrummy, and had silky skin to boot. However, do let me
note that getting to that point "in the name of beauty" was certainly no beautiful affair -- and with a Lush Pud, it never is. 'Cuz as soon
as Lush Pud hits the water, it releases a nasty, bubbly brown fizzing foam all over the surface (which my roommate says looks like a
chemical spill in polluted waters, and quite frankly, he's right.) Then once that dissipates, your brown Lush Pud(ding) leaves the water
looking like someone went #2 in the bath when you weren't looking. So, even when this Ballistic is at its fragrant best (a rare occasion,
this), do yourself a favour and take this bath with the lights down low (very low). That, dear reader, is what I did. Yes, this year I figured
it would be better to take my chances on a foul-looking, dessert-replacing bath taken in dimmed lighting than it would be to eat an
actual dessert and be left wishing that Victoria's Secret would dim the lights in my dressing room.
might disappointing, as its fragrance generally falls flat once it hits the water. This year, however, I decided to take a risk in the name
of beauty (also known as my desperate search for a waistline) and opted to give Lush Pud a promotion in spite of myself: no longer
just a bath, it officially became a dessert replacement on the big two-five. That's right, folks. After my Christmas dinner, I opted out of
dessert and took a Lush Pud bath instead. (Call me crazy and you'd be right.) But for once (out of 5 years and twice as many Lush
Puds), I finally found myself pleasantly surprised by this bath: the sweet, spiced citrus scent of Christmas pudding filled the air and did
so 'til bedtime, smelling so real that it was hard to believe it was calorie-free. I didn't eat pudding; I became pudding, dahling. Later that
night, when relatives complained that they felt like bloated cows, the mature side of my aging character got the best of me as I
consoled them with "nya-nya-nya-nya-nya!" Yes, I was fit as a fiddle, smelled scrummy, and had silky skin to boot. However, do let me
note that getting to that point "in the name of beauty" was certainly no beautiful affair -- and with a Lush Pud, it never is. 'Cuz as soon
as Lush Pud hits the water, it releases a nasty, bubbly brown fizzing foam all over the surface (which my roommate says looks like a
chemical spill in polluted waters, and quite frankly, he's right.) Then once that dissipates, your brown Lush Pud(ding) leaves the water
looking like someone went #2 in the bath when you weren't looking. So, even when this Ballistic is at its fragrant best (a rare occasion,
this), do yourself a favour and take this bath with the lights down low (very low). That, dear reader, is what I did. Yes, this year I figured
it would be better to take my chances on a foul-looking, dessert-replacing bath taken in dimmed lighting than it would be to eat an
actual dessert and be left wishing that Victoria's Secret would dim the lights in my dressing room.
(Christmas 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006) – Ahh....what with his sensual musky vanilla scent, it was love at first sniff, and soon a meaningful
romantic relationship ensued between Mr. Butterball and I. (Shame I had to drown the poor bugger, though.) His scent isn't overly
powerful, but it's definitely there and it lasts as long as you do for the remainder of the day. Still not enough man for ya'? Well, if you're
like me, and are lazy when it comes to applying body lotions, then this guy's the man of your dreams: as he's melting away in the water,
he releases big chunks of cocoa butter that gradually dissolve (that's right...so don't be frightened by the initial globs), leaving your
entire body moisturized without your having to lift a finger. For people with oilier skin, Mr. Butterball Snowman is great for an occasional
skin conditioning one night stand. For people with dry skin, or women who are pregnant or losing weight and are prone to stretch
marks, don't get alarmed if you start to hear wedding bells. He'll do that to ya'.
romantic relationship ensued between Mr. Butterball and I. (Shame I had to drown the poor bugger, though.) His scent isn't overly
powerful, but it's definitely there and it lasts as long as you do for the remainder of the day. Still not enough man for ya'? Well, if you're
like me, and are lazy when it comes to applying body lotions, then this guy's the man of your dreams: as he's melting away in the water,
he releases big chunks of cocoa butter that gradually dissolve (that's right...so don't be frightened by the initial globs), leaving your
entire body moisturized without your having to lift a finger. For people with oilier skin, Mr. Butterball Snowman is great for an occasional
skin conditioning one night stand. For people with dry skin, or women who are pregnant or losing weight and are prone to stretch
marks, don't get alarmed if you start to hear wedding bells. He'll do that to ya'.
(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 dollups 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.
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 dollups 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!
(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"), simply scroll up this alphabetically listed page until you get to "L" (which, of course, rhymes with "hell", and that could
be seen as yet another accurate description of what this bath looks like, I suppose, couldn't it?)
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"), simply scroll up this alphabetically listed page until you get to "L" (which, of course, rhymes with "hell", and that could
be seen as yet another accurate description of what this bath looks like, I suppose, couldn't it?)
(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.
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.
(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 wanna smell as decadently divine as you make us look!)
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 wanna smell as decadently divine as you make us look!)
(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 know how to use a computer or anything......yet.
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 know how to use a computer or anything......yet.
(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 its 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.
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 its 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.
(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.)
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.)
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