Almond Buttercream is a lovely skin conditioning shower soap (“soap” being used lightly of course, as Lush buttercreams are defined
as containing only 20% soap) with a pleasantly unique fragrance of almond, citrus, and spice. It’s not a traditional almond scent at all,
let alone a traditional Lush almond scent! It contains rich, moisturizing, softening almond butter, ground almond shells for an ultra-
gentle exfoliation, tonifying sweet orange and lime oils, and warming, stimulating cinnamon leaf oil, all creating a perfume that is quite
unexpected (in a good way!) And the scent lasts and lasts on the skin – it manages to be subtle (again, in a good way) yet
omnipresent. But it’s also a rather high maintenance item, and in my opinion, unnecessarily so. First, as Almond is less "soapy" and
far "oilier" in composition, it's noticeably short on lather and so a little doesn’t go a long way towards making your body genuinely feel
clean. To get even the most minimal, creamy lather on the skin, you really do need to use quite a bit in one go, with a 200g slice
supplying you with approximately 4 showers. Additionally, in the shops, Almond buttercream is displayed as a large, round chocolate
mousse cake from which individual slices are taken, much like those exquisite $200 cakes you see on display in posh patisseries.
When you freeze it, the consistency is more like an ice cream cake. Unrefrigerated, it softens to the consistency of chocolate pudding
(the American kind that Bill Cosby used to do commercials for back in the 1980s, not the British steamed cake kind.) Personally, I find
that leaving it out makes it easier to use; this pudding consistency is quite like a richer, thicker rendition of Lush’s Shower Smoothies.
Thing is, the problem with leaving it unrefrigerated is that Almond is decorated with a sprinkling of sesame seeds, and owed to the fact
that butter creams contain a minimum (if that) of preservatives, you’ll eventually find little specks of white fuzzy mold growing along their
surface. Lush says that refrigeration is only an option, but truly it’s a necessity if you’re not planning on using the entire slice straight
away. Additionally, the packaging in which Almond is sold – a clear lidded plastic salad bar/deli container that simply snaps shut
without an air-tight seal – is not conducive to travel let alone preservation. Unless you smoosh it up and place it into an air-tight pot or
jar of your own, Almond is strictly an at-home treat that’s not exactly meant to be savoured. It’s my opinion that while the individual
slices do look positively delicious on display, for the sake of convenience let alone value, this buttercream would be best sold in a pot
much like the Smoothies it tends to resemble. Though Almond is a lovely new product idea, Lush could really do with focusing less on
presentation and making this buttercream a bit more practical. Otherwise, that which could become a staple in the shower simply gets
relegated to the status of novelty item.
as containing only 20% soap) with a pleasantly unique fragrance of almond, citrus, and spice. It’s not a traditional almond scent at all,
let alone a traditional Lush almond scent! It contains rich, moisturizing, softening almond butter, ground almond shells for an ultra-
gentle exfoliation, tonifying sweet orange and lime oils, and warming, stimulating cinnamon leaf oil, all creating a perfume that is quite
unexpected (in a good way!) And the scent lasts and lasts on the skin – it manages to be subtle (again, in a good way) yet
omnipresent. But it’s also a rather high maintenance item, and in my opinion, unnecessarily so. First, as Almond is less "soapy" and
far "oilier" in composition, it's noticeably short on lather and so a little doesn’t go a long way towards making your body genuinely feel
clean. To get even the most minimal, creamy lather on the skin, you really do need to use quite a bit in one go, with a 200g slice
supplying you with approximately 4 showers. Additionally, in the shops, Almond buttercream is displayed as a large, round chocolate
mousse cake from which individual slices are taken, much like those exquisite $200 cakes you see on display in posh patisseries.
When you freeze it, the consistency is more like an ice cream cake. Unrefrigerated, it softens to the consistency of chocolate pudding
(the American kind that Bill Cosby used to do commercials for back in the 1980s, not the British steamed cake kind.) Personally, I find
that leaving it out makes it easier to use; this pudding consistency is quite like a richer, thicker rendition of Lush’s Shower Smoothies.
Thing is, the problem with leaving it unrefrigerated is that Almond is decorated with a sprinkling of sesame seeds, and owed to the fact
that butter creams contain a minimum (if that) of preservatives, you’ll eventually find little specks of white fuzzy mold growing along their
surface. Lush says that refrigeration is only an option, but truly it’s a necessity if you’re not planning on using the entire slice straight
away. Additionally, the packaging in which Almond is sold – a clear lidded plastic salad bar/deli container that simply snaps shut
without an air-tight seal – is not conducive to travel let alone preservation. Unless you smoosh it up and place it into an air-tight pot or
jar of your own, Almond is strictly an at-home treat that’s not exactly meant to be savoured. It’s my opinion that while the individual
slices do look positively delicious on display, for the sake of convenience let alone value, this buttercream would be best sold in a pot
much like the Smoothies it tends to resemble. Though Almond is a lovely new product idea, Lush could really do with focusing less on
presentation and making this buttercream a bit more practical. Otherwise, that which could become a staple in the shower simply gets
relegated to the status of novelty item.
With a creamier consistency far softer than soap yet denser than a Smoothie, Heavenly Bodies can initially strike you as a delicious
chocolate and orange mousse -- good enough to eat -- especially when witnessed on display as a full, unsliced cake in the shop. (For
those of you who don't live near a Lush store, click HERE to see a full sized photo of this posh patisserie worthy delight.) Some believe
that Heavenly Bodies possesses the same fragrance as Lush's Sonic Death Monkey Shower Gel; however, while the inclusion of
Rhassoul mud does add a slightly smokier scent to an otherwise bittersweet cocoa and citrus mix, this earthier aroma is not nearly as
pronounced as it is in Sonic Death Monkey's chocolate, orange and hemp recipe. Made of 70% natural oils and 30% soap,
Buttercreams are supposed to be Lush's gentlest, most intensively moisturizing and luxurious shower products. However, while I've
generally found the results from this ratio of ingredients to be fairly over-hyped and unnoticeable (if not downright ineffective whether as
a cleanser or skin conditioner) on the skin, along these lines, Heavenly Bodies does manage to be one of the better options of the lot,
lending a lightly scented softness to all skin types. The primary problem with Heavenly Bodies is the mess it makes in the shower:
occasionally leaving a bit of a yellow-brown residue on the skin, without fail it always imparts a dark brown lather. And because it's
consistency is quite soft, you are practically guaranteed to wind up with unsightly splashes of moist brownness which I advise you to
quickly clean lest someone think you were flinging something far less attractive onto the shower walls. Even when frozen to solid,
once Heavenly Bodies hits the water, it will quickly soften, taking you back to square one all over again. In the end, considering that
Lush makes so many excellent, hassle free shower products that successfully juxtaposition far smaller price tags with larger lists of
benefits, Heavenly Bodies might serve you well as a unique novelty of a shower treat, but it still doesn't rank as a Lush essential worthy
of regular purchase and use.
chocolate and orange mousse -- good enough to eat -- especially when witnessed on display as a full, unsliced cake in the shop. (For
those of you who don't live near a Lush store, click HERE to see a full sized photo of this posh patisserie worthy delight.) Some believe
that Heavenly Bodies possesses the same fragrance as Lush's Sonic Death Monkey Shower Gel; however, while the inclusion of
Rhassoul mud does add a slightly smokier scent to an otherwise bittersweet cocoa and citrus mix, this earthier aroma is not nearly as
pronounced as it is in Sonic Death Monkey's chocolate, orange and hemp recipe. Made of 70% natural oils and 30% soap,
Buttercreams are supposed to be Lush's gentlest, most intensively moisturizing and luxurious shower products. However, while I've
generally found the results from this ratio of ingredients to be fairly over-hyped and unnoticeable (if not downright ineffective whether as
a cleanser or skin conditioner) on the skin, along these lines, Heavenly Bodies does manage to be one of the better options of the lot,
lending a lightly scented softness to all skin types. The primary problem with Heavenly Bodies is the mess it makes in the shower:
occasionally leaving a bit of a yellow-brown residue on the skin, without fail it always imparts a dark brown lather. And because it's
consistency is quite soft, you are practically guaranteed to wind up with unsightly splashes of moist brownness which I advise you to
quickly clean lest someone think you were flinging something far less attractive onto the shower walls. Even when frozen to solid,
once Heavenly Bodies hits the water, it will quickly soften, taking you back to square one all over again. In the end, considering that
Lush makes so many excellent, hassle free shower products that successfully juxtaposition far smaller price tags with larger lists of
benefits, Heavenly Bodies might serve you well as a unique novelty of a shower treat, but it still doesn't rank as a Lush essential worthy
of regular purchase and use.
When you first smell Lemslip Buttercream (which smells exactly like Lemony Flutter cuticle butter), you want to love it. You hope you’ll
love it. Then your hands make contact with Lemslip in its room temperature state. Now you need to love it. Yes, they say you can freeze
or refrigerate Lush's Buttercreams, but why do any such thing to Lemslip when it would alter its decadently rich, thick lemon cream
texture, all in what appears to be a gorgeous slice of mousse cake from Lenôtre, complete with little bits of candied orange and lemon
sprinkled on top? Crafted of only 20% soap and 80% skin conditioning oils (which is, by definition, what makes a Lush Buttercream a
Buttercream in the first place), Lemslip has a buttery consistency, intended to supply you with only the mildest lather. (For those who
require a healthy dose o' suds in order that their bodies will feel genuinely clean, I recommend trying Lush's Sexy Peel Soap instead.)
Yet while Lemslip both feels and smells wonderful in the shower, its lemon pie aroma leaves positively no scent on the skin. So enjoy
its scrumptious fragrance while you can in the shower, because you can’t take it with you. Plus, designed as a skin conditioner for oily
skin, while it successfully combats spots (and does so even on your face if you want to give it a try), unless your genes have cursed
you with super mega oiliness all over your body, your skin will likely feel dehydrated once dried and dressed. Sad, and not quite what
you'd expect from an oil-based product called a "buttercream", but true none the less.
love it. Then your hands make contact with Lemslip in its room temperature state. Now you need to love it. Yes, they say you can freeze
or refrigerate Lush's Buttercreams, but why do any such thing to Lemslip when it would alter its decadently rich, thick lemon cream
texture, all in what appears to be a gorgeous slice of mousse cake from Lenôtre, complete with little bits of candied orange and lemon
sprinkled on top? Crafted of only 20% soap and 80% skin conditioning oils (which is, by definition, what makes a Lush Buttercream a
Buttercream in the first place), Lemslip has a buttery consistency, intended to supply you with only the mildest lather. (For those who
require a healthy dose o' suds in order that their bodies will feel genuinely clean, I recommend trying Lush's Sexy Peel Soap instead.)
Yet while Lemslip both feels and smells wonderful in the shower, its lemon pie aroma leaves positively no scent on the skin. So enjoy
its scrumptious fragrance while you can in the shower, because you can’t take it with you. Plus, designed as a skin conditioner for oily
skin, while it successfully combats spots (and does so even on your face if you want to give it a try), unless your genes have cursed
you with super mega oiliness all over your body, your skin will likely feel dehydrated once dried and dressed. Sad, and not quite what
you'd expect from an oil-based product called a "buttercream", but true none the less.
(Limited Edition for 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!
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!
Unlike most of the Butter Creams, even when Ring Of Roses is left out on a dish sans refrigeration of any sort, it maintains its solidity,
making it perfectly easy to use (and travel with). Essentially, Ring Of Roses is a soft, pink, creamy soap – but one that comes to you
covered in red rose petals, looking like some sort of beauteous gift to be bestowed upon Cleopatra. WARNING: as soon as you get
this thing home, get those lovely little petals the heck out of there, will ya’? Otherwise, by way of their own natural moisture, they will be
quick to turn moldy while embedding (deeply) a green-hued grossness into your soap. (My face is cringing uncontrollably as I type this.
I kid you not.) And be prepared to scrape the petals off with a knife; they’re slimy and will just leech onto your hands. (Still cringing.)
Once you get past all of this prerequisite nastiness, though, you’re in for a fragrant delight. As long as those petals didn’t rot into your
slice of Ring Of Roses, you’ll get a lovely fragrance of rose and lemon – much like that of the beloved Amandopondo Bubble Bar. And
like the majority of Lush’s soaps, it does manage to give you a decent amount of lather and fragrance, even if it isn’t particularly
moisturizing, at least not to the degree you might expect from something called a “Butter Cream.” In fact, it appears by way of effect that
the only things that make Ring Of Roses a “Buttercream” is that it happened to be given a fancier name, a fancier presentation, and a
fancier price than its soapy peers.
making it perfectly easy to use (and travel with). Essentially, Ring Of Roses is a soft, pink, creamy soap – but one that comes to you
covered in red rose petals, looking like some sort of beauteous gift to be bestowed upon Cleopatra. WARNING: as soon as you get
this thing home, get those lovely little petals the heck out of there, will ya’? Otherwise, by way of their own natural moisture, they will be
quick to turn moldy while embedding (deeply) a green-hued grossness into your soap. (My face is cringing uncontrollably as I type this.
I kid you not.) And be prepared to scrape the petals off with a knife; they’re slimy and will just leech onto your hands. (Still cringing.)
Once you get past all of this prerequisite nastiness, though, you’re in for a fragrant delight. As long as those petals didn’t rot into your
slice of Ring Of Roses, you’ll get a lovely fragrance of rose and lemon – much like that of the beloved Amandopondo Bubble Bar. And
like the majority of Lush’s soaps, it does manage to give you a decent amount of lather and fragrance, even if it isn’t particularly
moisturizing, at least not to the degree you might expect from something called a “Butter Cream.” In fact, it appears by way of effect that
the only things that make Ring Of Roses a “Buttercream” is that it happened to be given a fancier name, a fancier presentation, and a
fancier price than its soapy peers.
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