Truth be told, I hate fig rolls. They always used to be in our house. Now I’m grown up, I realise my mum bought them because they were biscuits, foodstuffs masquerading as treats that had things in them that were slightly good for you.
The truth will out. These days, I know that a treat is is packet of giant buttons washed down with a large gin and tonic, not a dried fruit infused with sugar. I would sell a digit for a decent fresh fig, tho. And scent-wise… Scent-wise I have a thing about figs. Jo Malone’s Wild Fig and Cassis is a go to spring scent of mine – so green! so fresh! Tho in finding that link, I’ve discovered it’s been discontinued, so it’s a good job I did order that new Jo Loves scent at the weekend. I would be devastated, except I took the inevitable trip to Ebay and discovered people selling their empty Jo Malone bottles for a starting price of £5 because it ‘would look fantastic as a decorative item on a shelf,’ and now I’m ENTIRELY distracted, because WTF?! I mean, I like Jo Malone, and all, but – WHAT!
I have half a bottle of Wild Fig and Cassis left. I will use it sparingly. And not sell its empty carcass on Ebay.
Now I am down a Jo Malone rabbit hole and wondering about Black Cedarwood and Juniper, which I’ve never smelt, tho that’s likely a Christmas scent, no?
Anyway, what I was going to say was that today, finally, I broke open the all new(ish) Waitrose bath foam I got my hands on last Friday.
Despite the impression I spend all my money on decadent bath products, mostly I like bathing because it’s an epically, epically good form of pain control for me – better than actual prescription medication, a lot of the time – and, while it’s often more fun with decadent bath products, a lot of the time I just want a nice-smelling bath, sometimes two baths in one day, and I really actually don’t want to be paying £4 a pop for that, because – WHAT!
And back in the day – i.e. until a few months ago – there was an Essential Waitrose bath foam called Ginger and Clementine, or Clementine and Ginger, I forget, and it smelt amazing – fresh and fruity and warming – and it cost £1.15 a bottle, or £1 a bottle if you bought it as part of a buy 3 save… 45p offer and, crucially, it didn’t dry my skin to a crisp, even when I spent all day in the bath. And I do, regularly, spend all day in the bath.
And then, a few months ago, I noticed it had been discontinued, and I was quietly devastated. Seriously, more devastated than I am about the Wild Fig and Cassis thing. There will be other lovely overpriced perfumes, but there may never be another good cheap bath foam.
I have been scouring the Waitrose website on a daily basis, with sadness and a forlorn sort of hope. I was actually considering the Freesia and Pear one – Freesia and Pear! – when hope sprung upon the horizon!
Overjoyed, I was. At £1.50 it is clearly a rip of compared to its Essential Waitrose counterpart, but I am not about to complain. And on Friday, I raided the bath shelf of local Big Waitrose, and am happy again.
The one I used tonight was the Wild Fig and Sandalwood one – which should work for me for all the reasons listed above. I also bought the body wash that goes with it, tho for complicated reasons, I don’t have it. A friend took it home with him by accident, it’s a long story involving plastic bags with holes in them. So today I teamed it with Devil’s Nightcap soap, which is still making my hands a bit dry, but is so unctuous and earthy I really don’t care.
In the bottle, Wild Fig and Sandalwood isn’t my favourite of the three I picked up. That’s Lime and Basil, which is zesty and surprisingly deep.
In the bath, the Wild Fig one, tho you get the occasional whiff of ribena, does mostly smell of juniper, and of autumn and of wrapping a blanket around yourself while sitting in front of a log fire, and drinking a grown up gin, and talking with a friend.
I approve very much, tho I think I am going to end up preferring the ginger one, just for old time’s sake. While I was writing this entry, I got so heavily distracted there was nothing I could do except spray myself with Jo Malone, so as I sit here, all I can smell is Wild Fig and Cassis. I’m trying to decide if I ever liked it anyway, and clearly cannot be trusted.