Today’s post is from my very stylish, leather satchel loving fiancé. 

In my life, there have been three occasions complete strangers have stopped me to comment on my appearance. The first was an Australian cricket fan outside Lord’s cricket ground, who asked where my pink blazer was from.  He added that if I wore it to a match in Australia I’d leave in a coffin.

The second and third times were all in the last couple of months, and whilst not technically something I was wearing, both related to my new leather satchel from Ruitertassen.

Here it is:

beautiful leather satchel for men Ruitertassen review View Post

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My very first smartphone was a Blackberry Curve. One of these cute little things, remember them?

I’ve never been very on top of the latest phone technology, so until I got this one, I think in 2009/10, I just had a phone that sent text messages and made calls – very retro. Being able to reply to emails FROM MY PHONE was a massive thing and the start of a flourishing if not slightly unhealthy obsession with being able to respond Very Quickly Indeed to everything. Just in case. View Post

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Last weekend Belle and I had a little weekend away together in London. With work and school, the weeks get very busy and we really enjoy taking time out every now and again to spend some quality time together.

Quality time. How wholesome I sound!

This time our trip was extra lovely, as we had been offered a room in the Cavendish Hotel, just off Piccadilly Circus. I had already been to the Cavendish once for afternoon tea, so was very excited about getting to spend the whole night there.

Belle has a thing whenever we are away somewhere, of wanting to spend as much time as possible in whatever our accommodation is. If we are at a festival for example, she is always nagging me to let her go back to the tent. I don’t know why, she just seems to like being in something. View Post

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I’ve got Bee here again today, wearing some lovely new clothes…

Its 2008. I’m 12. My much cooler friend Lauren walks into our geography classroom. Instead of the usual tween gossip mag filled with brand new information about the Jonas Brothers, she’s carrying a catalogue.

“It’s the new Joe Browns catalogue”, she says, “It came in the post this morning.”

“Oh yeah, cool” I say, acting like I know what she’s talking about. I then find out that Joe Browns is a super cool clothes website where Lauren gets most of her clothes. Being 12 and spending most of my money on Maltesers I’m not known for my amazing fashion sense. I stare at the catalogue wistfully as Lauren points out all of the things her Mum has agreed to buy her. I imagine that if I owned a t-shirt or even a hair clip from Joe Browns, I’d immediately be transported to the Cornish coast where I would surf, have long blonde windswept hair and listen to Jack Johnson while drinking coconut smoothies with a group of beautiful friends laughing around a camp fire. View Post

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I fear that Belle is getting a little cynical.

She came home from school on Friday with the sad news that this year she hadn’t made it into the school dance troupe. “Never mind,” I said, “I’ve got you a little something to make up for it!”

She looked suspicious.

“What if I had got in?” she asked.

“Well, ” I said, caught a little off guard, “it would have been a congratulation present!”

“Did you buy it or do I have to review it?” she asked.

Damn.

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“Have you been drinking?” Boyfriend asks. It’s nine o’clock in the morning and he is sniffing the air around me suspiciously. “I thought you smelt a bit boozy when you got home from netball last night.”

“Well I’ve had my breakfast gin and tonic obviously,” I reply, “but that’s all.”

Eventually we track the smell down to my hair. What I was smelling as an exotic blend of essential oils, Boyfriend was interpreting as the first signs of alcoholism.

For eight weeks now I’ve been trying out the Aveda Invati range of hair thickening and revitalising products:

  • "Aveda Invati"invati™ exfoliating shampoo – ‘Removes build-up that can clog pores and renews the scalp.’ – £19.50
  • invati™ thickening conditioner – ‘Restores strength and improves hair elasticity, reducing breakage.’ – £21.50
  • invati™ scalp revitalizer – ‘Helps energize and rehabilitate the scalp.’ – £43

I’ve always had annoyingly fine hair, so when this opportunity came up I jumped at the chance. (My thick, glossy hair bouncing seductively as I did.*)

Some people say I’m gullible when it comes to believing promises. I like to think of it more as trusting and open-minded. Whatever the case, I went into the trial with an open mind, hopeful that here at last would be the answer to all my glossy haired prayers.

Unfortunately, it was not to be. Although it smelled nice, and left my hair feeling silky and soft, the shampoo and conditioner did nothing to improve the thickness of my hair. Nobody noticed any difference, even after eight weeks, and I’ve yet to be approached in the street to star in a hair commercial.

This is me before:

"Before using Aveda Invati"

And here I am after:

The scalp revitaliser was the tricky bit. I followed the instructions precisely – 8 sprays on each side of the head – but it left my thin hair feeling weighed down and oily, and needing to be washed every day, where normally I can get away with just tying it back no the second day if I’m feeling a bit lazy.

However, although it may not have had much effect as a hair thickener, the shampoo and conditioner on their own were really lovely. They smelt great, and left my hair feeling really soft, shiny and in good condition. Unfortunately I really can’t justify spending over £40 just on a shampoo and conditioner just because it makes my hair feel soft.

*Not.

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That’s right readers, you heard me, scourers.

I know. Sexy right? Hold onto your hat and prepare for a rollercoaster of a blog post.

"Scourers in the post"

Now obviously I’m not really interested in cleaning things, but boyfriend is always up for a bit of scourer action, so it was with him in mind that I accepted Scotch-Brite’s challenge to put their cloths and scourers to the test against a couple of other leading brands. In fact, so keen was he to help me out, that he devised a series of tests to give each product a fair trial.*

To keep any personal scourer preferences out of the equation, we weren’t told which other brands we had been sent, products were simply labelled A and B. In each case, the Scotch-Brite products were a bit more expensive, but they believe they are worth paying that little extra for.

Here’s what our tests found:

The product: Heavy duty scourer

What Scotch-Brite say: “this scourer easily shifts grease and burnt food. What’s great about it is it contains natural fibres of cellulose which are super absorbent, which is ideal for mopping up or wiping down surfaces”

"Heavy Duty Scourer"

The test: How clean can you make a baked on casserole dish in 15 seconds? (We deliberately left a casserole dish in the over after dinner to make sure it was good and baked on)

"Dirty dishes"

The results: They say a picture is worth a thousand words…

"Scourers"

OK, so the left hand third was cleaned with scourer A, the middle with scourer B and the right hand third with the Scotch Brite scourer. Scotch Brite was definitely the winner on this one.

The product: Multi-purpose cellulose scourer

What Scotch-Brite say: “This product is non-scratch, super absorbent and it has a unique ‘wave’ shape which makes it much easier to hold and use.”

"Sponge"

The test: Washing a casserole encrusted dinner plate

The results: There wasn’t much in this one, although we found the Scotch-Brite scourer was a bit quicker on the tough bits. Boyfriend questionned a lack of finger grips, but as he said himself ‘who uses them anyway?’ (Not me. I didn’t even know finger grips on scourers were a thing.)

The product: Sponge cloth

What Scotch-Brite say: “Scotch-Brite’s Sponge cloths are ultra-absorbent (they can hold up to ten times their own weight!). It’s also soft and flexible for mopping up all kinds of spills.”

The test: To test absorbency – how much water can you pout onto each cloth before it starts to leak out of the sides?

The results: Well, a bit of an intersting result here. Cloth A came out worst, only being able to hold 100ml. Both the Scotch-Brite cloth and cloth B held 125ml, but when you picked the Scotch-Brite cloth up to take it to the sink loads of water ran out. Cloth B held the liquid much better.

However, wiping round the surfaces with the Scotch-Brite cloth left things looking and feeling generally drier. The cloth moved more smoothly, and wiping with it felt like less effort than with the competing brands.

So there you go, that’s our Scotch-Brite tests. I told you it was going to be exciting didn’t I? I will leave you to judge whether you think Scotch-Brite is worth the extra money.

*It is at moments like these that I come over all funny and love him even more than usual. I’m not even kidding. I find this sort of thing adorable.

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There, I’ve said it.

I love my Filofax. I love looking at it on my desk, I love sniffing it and I especially love walking around with it, carrying it proudly under my arm, and casually getting things out of it. (When I’m out with other people obviously, not just around the house on my own. Although…)

Since I got my Finsbury Personal Organiser* a couple of weeks ago, it has been settling in nicely with my other stationery items, and I’ve taken it on quite a few outings with me too. Oh yes, and it’s handy for writing things in too, but that’s secondary really to the sniffing.

Seriously though, it is very useful. I’ve always been much more of a pen and paper person. I have a Blackberry Torch, but I never use the calendar or address book. I prefer a white board and a stack of 17 or so notebooks for keeping track of my work.

One thing I love about my Filofax, now it’s getting towards the end of the year, is that I can have the 2013 diary insert in ready, and write next year’s appointment in the same place, rather than have to crack open a new diary or calendar and have two on the go at once. I’m also very excited about the different extras that you can buy to go in it. Father Christmas, if you are reading, I would like a Filofax themed stocking this year please.

Here’s a few photos so you can see what me and my Filofax have been up to:

"Filofax"

Settling in on my desk at home. The whiteboard markers have been showing it round.

"Filofax on the train"

On the train on the way to London, my Filofax has a little peep out of my handbag.

"Yellow filofax"

Most importantly though, does my Filofax match my nail varnish?

*This is its official name – long, like a pedigree dog. I’ve thought about calling it Finn for short, but I have a nephew called Finn, so that could get confusing. “Have you seen Finn?” I might ask my sister. “I think I left him in my handbag?”

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I’ve never really thought of myself as a natural scooter. (As in somebody who scoots. Obviously I know I’m not made of metal, annoying to meet on pavements etc. Although the latter could be true.)

Generally I lack co-ordination. Give me a plate to put away and I’ll manage to bang it on at least three surfaces along the way. I also lack the desire to make any sort of physical effort, apart from netball now of course, and given the choice, would always rather have a little sit down with a cup of tea and a penguin bar.

When I was first offered a mother and daughter toddler scooters combo then, you can imagine my reaction. I was never good at balancing, let alone balancing on a moving board with a tiny steering bar. I thought, no, it will never happen. A short derisive snort, tea sloshed over the keyboard a bit, crumbs everywhere. But then Bee happened to complain about her walk to college and was wishing she had a scooter. What are the chances?

“Wait!” I said, seeing an opportunity to cast myself as caring, attentive mother, ready to attend to her every need, “I will get you a scooter!”

And so my fate was sealed.

Bee hasn’t actually ridden the grown up version to school yet, what with the holidays and all, but Belle and I have been out for many a wholesome family scoot together. OK, that’s a bit of a lie. We have scooted round to the Co-op though to recycle the plastic, (what kind of stupid city council doesn’t have kerbside plastic collections??), but to be honest I’m not sure it was wise to balance two full bags on my handlebars on my first outing.

“HOW DO I STOP??!!” I screamed at Belle as I approached my first kerb.

“Use the brake!” she cried back, rather unhelpfully I thought, from miles ahead already.

The brake apparently is at the back, but taking both feet off the ground at exactly the moment I wanted to have both of them on it seemed foolish in the extreme, so instead I attempted an undignified sort of intermittent scrape with one foot, like you do on a swing when you’re little and want to slow down but are too scared to jump off.

Finally drawing to a halt, I lifted my scooter up the kerb, only to be met with a sharp crack of metal against my ankle bone. Belle meanwhile was loving it – her scooter has three wheels through, and doesn’t attack your ankles when you’re not looking.

Scooting home, without the encumbrance of a dozen empty four pint milk containers was easier, and at points I’d almost go as far as to say I enjoyed it, but I think I might stick to strolling along behind Belle on hers. I realise this makes me officially No Fun At All, but I am 34 and have nearly grown up children, so that’s as it should be.

I’m sure for Bee it will prove really useful, as she does have a bit of a trek to school every day, and Belle was delighted to at last be able to replace her rusty old five year old scooter that frankly, she had become too ashamed to be seen with. I fear though that if I continued with my screaming, foot scrapping, ankle bashing routine it could be me who ends up the embarrassment.

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It’s been a while since I did a straight product review. ‘Thank God!’ I hear you cry. They are dull after all. I personally hate reading them.

Still, when Ikea offered me one of these mega-cute inflatable ladybirds (with the catchy name of Sagosten)… well, I was putty in their hands. What can I say, I’m a sucker for a parcel, it was nearly Christmas, I thought I could wrap it up, pretend I’d bought it specially, and Belle would never know…

Belle has got a bit fed up in recent months with my product reviews. Now, if I ever give her anything, she narrows her eyes cynically and asks ‘do I have to write a review?’ So this time, I went for a plain and simple lie, passing the ladybird off instead as a thoughtful gift. *bad mummy*

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Yes, you heard me right – I said chocolate weetabix.

*waits while readers pick themselves up off the floor*

Now before I start, I know what you’re thinking – you’re thinking ‘there have been quite a few reviews lately – what’s Jo playing at? It’s boring – we come here to read the sordid, pathetic details of her non-existent love life and feel better about our own lives, not get lectured about teddies and breakfast cereals.’

Well fair enough, I won’t do any more for ages, promise, but things have been a little tighter financially this month, so when I was asked if I wanted to try some of these new chocolate weetabix I was basically thinking ‘one less dinner to worry about.’ What can I say. I’m a cheap date.

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