I’ve always been drawn to the luxuriousness of a designer label. The quality of the fabric, the cut, the attention to detail.
I don’t actually own any, apart from a handful of Ralph Lauren tops and a coat by the same name. Hobbs and Whistles are where I go now if I want to splash out on something expensive. It’s more a case of admiring from a distance.
I actually chose my current perfume because the scent reminded me of Selfridges. Not everyone would admit to that but it makes me smile. I adore the shop.
I’d wander around there in my student days, soaking in the atmosphere and admiring everything from the clothing and the shoes to those Gucci bags you are too afraid to touch. Not because you’d damage them in any way, but because you’d be nervous the security guards would eye you with suspicion, fully aware that your current outfit – scuffed chunky shoes, slogan t-shirt and flared jeans – do not have an air of Gucci about them.
Even when I’d maxed out my Selfridges card, twice, and learnt that it’s better – no essential – to earn the money before spending it, I’d still call in regularly for my ‘Selfridges’ hit. I still do.
This all acts as an explanation as to why I watch a number of style bloggers on YouTube. They are my glimpse into the world of designer luxury and the equivalent of that Selfridges hit.
There’s no danger of me rushing out and buying the clothes they feature. Even if I had the budget, the figure and the confidence to wear bold, bright prints, there are some things you can’t quite get away with at 40+. Dressing like a 20-year-old is one of those things.
But where I can take their advice, copy their beauty routine and buy their recommended products, is in the area of hair care.
Or so I thought.
That’s where it all started to go a little bit wrong.
Forever on a quest to have slightly less frizzy, slighted more ‘groomed’ hair, my ears pricked up I heard one YouTuber recommending a shampoo from the L’Oréal Professional range. It was a matter of seconds before I was searching Amazon from my phone. I hit the buy button before I’d fully checked the details of what I was ordering.
When the shampoo arrived, it had the same silver packaging it had in the YouTube video, all was well. I was excited to try it out. It felt a little like Christmas.
Pouring it on to my hands I was a little alarmed to see the shampoo was bright blue, as were my hands and the basin as I lathered it in and washed it out.
The clue, after a little investigation, was the inclusion of the word ‘silver’ in the range. The shampoo I’d bought was for people with silver or white hair. It’s designed to neutralise the yellow tones your hair can get as it turns grey.
I’m not quite ready for that blue rinse yet. But waste not want not, I’ve decided to use the rest of the bottle.
More worrying is the fact that it wasn’t the only ‘rushed Amazon hair care purchase’ I made that day. I have absolutely no idea what will arrive on the doorstep next.