(Christmas 2005 and 2006) – Shower Jellies are, in my opinion, an unnecessary nuisance in general. But you know that I have to buy
anything associated with champagne, and so, I got sucked into the ol' Shower Jelly experience yet again. The first time I attempted to
purchase this Jelly, I was in London. Despite the fancy-pants name and equally fancy Bucks Fizz fragrance, it was runny and
apologies in advance for being graphic, but as one onlooker described, it looked "like released male sperm". So, I went to another
store to check out their supply: same thing. The sales assistants informed me that this Shower Jelly often refuses to stay solid at
room temperature -- an ongoing problem shared by virtually everyone. I finally made my way back to New York, where at the Herald
Square store, they had the rare stash of firm, sparkling pre-cut slices of this Jelly. Chuffed to bits to have finally landed myself a huge
chunk o' Champagne Snow Showers, I immediately took it home and placed it in the freezer to ensure that it would remain solid. Once
frozen, unlike its counterparts, Champagne Snow Showers has a rich, thick butter consistency, with the fluffy, opaque white
appearance of meringue, making this Shower Jelly much easier to use directly on the skin as Lush intends. (The product designer's
stated intention was that you grab an entire slice and use the whole thing directly on your hair and skin in one go -- Shower Jellies
being a direct replacement for the therapeutic hot/cold contrast offered by Lush's Frozen Shower Gels) Of course, Champagne Snow
Showers' smooth, wobbly gelatin texture still causes it to incessantly slips out of your hands, but once it hits the bottom of the tub, it
does not fall apart and wastefully head for the drain as many other jellies do. As for the delicious fragrance (similar to that of
Christmas Party Bath Ballistic) created by orange oil and real cognac liquor, it's a wonderful eye-opener in the shower and leaves a
delicate citrus aroma on post-shower skin. But being a rather dehydrating jelly, it can also leave anything less than oily skin feeling a
bit dry, and though intended to double as a shampoo, I'd recommend that you give this a pass unless feeling desperate for a bad hair
day of tangles and frizz. Yes, I got sucked in once again, folks. I heard "champagne" and came running in my usual style. But this time
I wasn't quite as miffed by what was a milder inconvenience, thanks to improved consistency, if only in frozen form. (And the longer you
freeze it -- as if allowing it to "cure" for a few months -- the more user friendly its consistency becomes.) But would I purchase this
product again, though? The honest answer is no (though you might be able to bribe me once a year with a tall glass of Bucks Fizz as
long as it's made with Cristal and you've freshly squeezed the orange juice yourself, by hand) as I happen to prefer shower products
that are inconvenience-free (the very nature of a stand-up shower being that of quick convenience). And Champagne Showers' leaky,
untransportable packaging is already inconvenient enough for starters, never mind all of its other notable flaws.
anything associated with champagne, and so, I got sucked into the ol' Shower Jelly experience yet again. The first time I attempted to
purchase this Jelly, I was in London. Despite the fancy-pants name and equally fancy Bucks Fizz fragrance, it was runny and
apologies in advance for being graphic, but as one onlooker described, it looked "like released male sperm". So, I went to another
store to check out their supply: same thing. The sales assistants informed me that this Shower Jelly often refuses to stay solid at
room temperature -- an ongoing problem shared by virtually everyone. I finally made my way back to New York, where at the Herald
Square store, they had the rare stash of firm, sparkling pre-cut slices of this Jelly. Chuffed to bits to have finally landed myself a huge
chunk o' Champagne Snow Showers, I immediately took it home and placed it in the freezer to ensure that it would remain solid. Once
frozen, unlike its counterparts, Champagne Snow Showers has a rich, thick butter consistency, with the fluffy, opaque white
appearance of meringue, making this Shower Jelly much easier to use directly on the skin as Lush intends. (The product designer's
stated intention was that you grab an entire slice and use the whole thing directly on your hair and skin in one go -- Shower Jellies
being a direct replacement for the therapeutic hot/cold contrast offered by Lush's Frozen Shower Gels) Of course, Champagne Snow
Showers' smooth, wobbly gelatin texture still causes it to incessantly slips out of your hands, but once it hits the bottom of the tub, it
does not fall apart and wastefully head for the drain as many other jellies do. As for the delicious fragrance (similar to that of
Christmas Party Bath Ballistic) created by orange oil and real cognac liquor, it's a wonderful eye-opener in the shower and leaves a
delicate citrus aroma on post-shower skin. But being a rather dehydrating jelly, it can also leave anything less than oily skin feeling a
bit dry, and though intended to double as a shampoo, I'd recommend that you give this a pass unless feeling desperate for a bad hair
day of tangles and frizz. Yes, I got sucked in once again, folks. I heard "champagne" and came running in my usual style. But this time
I wasn't quite as miffed by what was a milder inconvenience, thanks to improved consistency, if only in frozen form. (And the longer you
freeze it -- as if allowing it to "cure" for a few months -- the more user friendly its consistency becomes.) But would I purchase this
product again, though? The honest answer is no (though you might be able to bribe me once a year with a tall glass of Bucks Fizz as
long as it's made with Cristal and you've freshly squeezed the orange juice yourself, by hand) as I happen to prefer shower products
that are inconvenience-free (the very nature of a stand-up shower being that of quick convenience). And Champagne Showers' leaky,
untransportable packaging is already inconvenient enough for starters, never mind all of its other notable flaws.
(Christmas 2005) – When you first grab a slice of this brandy buttered cake, one sniff is enough to leave you feeling a bit tipsy: Randy
Butter smells like you took a tour of the Old Bushmills Brewery, leaned a little too far over a vat o' the good stuff for a sniff and then fell
in! Now give it a few days -- the more time you have with Randy Butter, the more sweetly spiced cinnamon will jump out at you -- at
which time, you'll smell like you fell into a mulled punch bowl instead! Packed with the delicious spiced Christmas cocktail scent of
brandy, cocoa, cinnamon, and cognac, it's as if Lush has thrown a wild drunken holiday bash for one (or two if you're generous enough
to invite someone to join you) in the shower. Yet there's a potential downside to this: no matter how long you leave your Randy Butter
to "cure," the fragrance is so strong -- not just in the shower, but also on your skin -- that once you arrive at the office, your co-workers
might think you were hittin' the bottle for brekkie. But who the heck cares what they think? (They're just jealous.) You know the truth:
you simply enjoyed one of Lush's all-time most festively fragranced Christmas soaps. Yes, I know it's not really a soap; it's a
Buttercream, which means (by Lush's definition) that it only contains 20% soap and 80% skin nourishing oils. But ultimately, it
functions just like a soap. A bit more solid than most of Lush's Buttercreams (and getting more so with time, further allowing a little to
go quite a long way), it can be used in your hands as you would a typical slice of soap, giving you that incomparably rich lather for
which Lush Soaps are famous. And truth be told, when you get right down to it, despite the fancy name, higher price, and all the hype
that comes with it, it's no more or less moisturizing than your average Lush soap. Not much cop, but still....that cognac and brandy
chaser aroma puts you in the Christmas spirit, prepping even the most tired and worn among us for a reckless (translated as
devastatingly fun) night of partying. My, my, my, Lush! On that count, I gotta say that you've raucously outdone yourselves!
Butter smells like you took a tour of the Old Bushmills Brewery, leaned a little too far over a vat o' the good stuff for a sniff and then fell
in! Now give it a few days -- the more time you have with Randy Butter, the more sweetly spiced cinnamon will jump out at you -- at
which time, you'll smell like you fell into a mulled punch bowl instead! Packed with the delicious spiced Christmas cocktail scent of
brandy, cocoa, cinnamon, and cognac, it's as if Lush has thrown a wild drunken holiday bash for one (or two if you're generous enough
to invite someone to join you) in the shower. Yet there's a potential downside to this: no matter how long you leave your Randy Butter
to "cure," the fragrance is so strong -- not just in the shower, but also on your skin -- that once you arrive at the office, your co-workers
might think you were hittin' the bottle for brekkie. But who the heck cares what they think? (They're just jealous.) You know the truth:
you simply enjoyed one of Lush's all-time most festively fragranced Christmas soaps. Yes, I know it's not really a soap; it's a
Buttercream, which means (by Lush's definition) that it only contains 20% soap and 80% skin nourishing oils. But ultimately, it
functions just like a soap. A bit more solid than most of Lush's Buttercreams (and getting more so with time, further allowing a little to
go quite a long way), it can be used in your hands as you would a typical slice of soap, giving you that incomparably rich lather for
which Lush Soaps are famous. And truth be told, when you get right down to it, despite the fancy name, higher price, and all the hype
that comes with it, it's no more or less moisturizing than your average Lush soap. Not much cop, but still....that cognac and brandy
chaser aroma puts you in the Christmas spirit, prepping even the most tired and worn among us for a reckless (translated as
devastatingly fun) night of partying. My, my, my, Lush! On that count, I gotta say that you've raucously outdone yourselves!
(Christmas 2005, 2006) – For the first time in their ten year existence, Lush finally decided to create a Christmas Shower Gel! Yay for
them! (Insert my celebratory dance solo here.) But that's not the only good news: this is, in my opinion, one of the best Shower Gels
they've ever created. If you like sweeter, fruitier scents, you'll love Snow Fairy: it's bubble gum and cotton candy love at first sniff, but
once in the shower, it smells quite a bit like watermelon Jolly Rancher candies and ripe bananas. Some people say that they find this
fragrance to be "plastic" and "chemical", but I disagree. All I smell are candied Floridian fruits. Others say this fragrance is far too
sweet, but again I disagree: it is indeed a potent "ooh mama!" of a fruit cocktail, but I believe that to be part of its greatness. Besides,
those most likely to find this scent sickly will be those who don't like bananas. (Bananas aren't listed in the ingredients, but they are
most definitely lurking around in the secret "perfume" ingredients, and doing so in a not-so-subtle fashion -- kind of like a sequined
drag queen at a corporate conference.) Once out of the shower, what began as an intoxicating concoction turns into a perfectly subtle
dose of sweet, musked fruit on both skin and hair. And when this Shower Gel is doubled as a shampoo, not only does hair smell good
enough to eat, but it's softer than ever, this also being one of Lush's all-time greatest Liquid Shampoos for all hair types. Extremely
dry, damaged, coarse, thick hair might want to follow up with a light detangler, but for everybody else, conditioner need not apply. (I
owe this to the nature of softening, conditioning bananas, which I swear are in there!) The only disappointment regarding this Shower
Gel is the lack of promised iridescence. The label tells you to expect glitter (hence the name "Snow Fairy", as it contains "fairy dust"),
and if you look at the bottle, here and there you'll occasionally spot clusters of sparkling purple-blue hues. But that's the catch: there's
so little glitter, for the most part it basically just sticks to the inside of the bottle. Those who aren't glitter-happy will be pleased to know
that they won't encounter a single speck of fairy dust. But for self-proclaimed glitter goddesses who emerge from the shower
untouched by a fairy, they will doubtless feel a bit cheated.
them! (Insert my celebratory dance solo here.) But that's not the only good news: this is, in my opinion, one of the best Shower Gels
they've ever created. If you like sweeter, fruitier scents, you'll love Snow Fairy: it's bubble gum and cotton candy love at first sniff, but
once in the shower, it smells quite a bit like watermelon Jolly Rancher candies and ripe bananas. Some people say that they find this
fragrance to be "plastic" and "chemical", but I disagree. All I smell are candied Floridian fruits. Others say this fragrance is far too
sweet, but again I disagree: it is indeed a potent "ooh mama!" of a fruit cocktail, but I believe that to be part of its greatness. Besides,
those most likely to find this scent sickly will be those who don't like bananas. (Bananas aren't listed in the ingredients, but they are
most definitely lurking around in the secret "perfume" ingredients, and doing so in a not-so-subtle fashion -- kind of like a sequined
drag queen at a corporate conference.) Once out of the shower, what began as an intoxicating concoction turns into a perfectly subtle
dose of sweet, musked fruit on both skin and hair. And when this Shower Gel is doubled as a shampoo, not only does hair smell good
enough to eat, but it's softer than ever, this also being one of Lush's all-time greatest Liquid Shampoos for all hair types. Extremely
dry, damaged, coarse, thick hair might want to follow up with a light detangler, but for everybody else, conditioner need not apply. (I
owe this to the nature of softening, conditioning bananas, which I swear are in there!) The only disappointment regarding this Shower
Gel is the lack of promised iridescence. The label tells you to expect glitter (hence the name "Snow Fairy", as it contains "fairy dust"),
and if you look at the bottle, here and there you'll occasionally spot clusters of sparkling purple-blue hues. But that's the catch: there's
so little glitter, for the most part it basically just sticks to the inside of the bottle. Those who aren't glitter-happy will be pleased to know
that they won't encounter a single speck of fairy dust. But for self-proclaimed glitter goddesses who emerge from the shower
untouched by a fairy, they will doubtless feel a bit cheated.
 |