Wednesday, 6 July 2016

You've got the brains, I've got the Braun...

...let's make lots of money. 

Remember that old Pet Shop Boys song? Okay, so I may have replaced "brawn" with Braun, but this is a post about the merits of electrical goods, not catchy old Eighties tunes, so hear me out. 

If you don't remember much from the Eighties, chances are you're too young to need natty facial fuzz removal devices anyway, so feel free to scroll on by if I'm boring you. If, however, you find yourself absent-mindedly twirling and twizzling your beard like a thoughtful wizard, read on. You need this. 

My regular readers will testify that I don't usually use my blog as a platform for selling or recommending stuff. I leave that to the stunning bambi-eyed babes: bronzed, bikini'd-up and pouting into the camera as they gush about the latest fake tan/juicer/whatever. I'm not knocking them, it's where the money is, however I generally prefer to use my little corner of the interweb solely for reminiscing, observations, rants and musings. I blog for the love of writing, not to sell shit. 

So, as I say, I wouldn't ordinarily share personal grooming tips on here, but the footy's on so hopefully all the men are goggle-eyed on the box. If you're a fella please look away now, there's no need to trouble your pretty little head with such business. Go on, off ya go....unless the women in your life make Chewbacca look clean-shaven, in which case, send them the link to this post, pronto.

Pssst, girls! Listen up! In the name of the sisterhood I have to share this with you : buy a facial epilator. Get one. Just do it. O.M.G! Oh...em...to the capital gee.  

They are totally like sha-mazingggg!!

I won't go into deets, but let's just say I was starting to cultivate facial hair that any Shoreditch hipster dude worth his skinny jeans woulda been proud of - ya get me? It was either a Braun epilator....or beard oil. I was in serious danger of turning into a werewolf every time I could sense a full moon was approaching. I was getting the twinges. 

You know you've got a problem when your fella is worried about you giving him a rash from kissing. One of his nicknames for me is The Bearded Dragon. Say no more. 

Hence, I bit the bullet and bought this gadget. It's called Braun Face 810. Wow! My face hasn't been this smooth and soft since about five minutes after I was born. Why did it take me forty long years to discover this thing? How could those deceptively smooth-skinned girls smile slyly as they eyed my Poirot 'tache whilst keeping this a secret? It's a downy-right cheek! (geddit?). Hence I'm shouting it from the rooftops. My bearded buddies will thanks me, especially the one who's developed a nervous tic whereby her tongue flicks out snake-style at regular intervals to moisten her bristly moustache (triggering snorty lols from me).

So what is this magical invention I hear you cry? It's actually nothing new: basically a hand-held battery-powered wand that you run over your face and it just...pulls all the hairs out. Every one. Simples. Sounds painful? Merely a mild tingle. The top lip is slightly eye-watering, granted, but it's more than worth it for the results. It also comes with a facial cleansing brush head attachment, which I used first:


    

This badboy pulled out enough tufty little hairs to stuff a cushion. If you're particularly bewhiskered you could probably reupholster your sofa whilst you're at it. I'm not kidding. I recommend weighing yourself before and after: I reckon I lost a good few pounds of fuzz in the process. My boyfriend even joked that I'll need to get a new passport now, or risk being whisked aside at the airport. This is not exactly the before and after, but it's close....

 
  
















And all for the non-bank-breaking sum of 35 measly squid. I know, right? A no-brainer. I read the reviews and was like "Take my money. Take it."

So to all those hirsute honeys, this post is for you. Well all know that hormones play havoc with the old hair sitch, so don't beat yourself up about bumfluff, get one of these. You can thank me later. 

It's one baaaad mother plucker.


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