It’s often so inclemently cold here in Blighty, not to mention the arctic conditions Krakow can somtimes experience – and anyone visiting it – that a good moisturiser is the difference between your skin looking ming or zing. Whilst rummaging around in a branch of Waitrose (oh how I miss you with your £15 legs of lamb) I came across the much hyped and acclaimed Australian brand Lanolips.
Despite the DREADFUL name, these chaps produce wonder-products all made with ultra pure lanolin as well as other natural ingredients (I know a bunch of other beauty products use lanolin too, but this is ‘ultra medical grade’ and it is this unrivalled purity which makes the difference…)
The fact that lanolin is actually a natural substance that comes from mangey old sheep’s wool amuses me no end, on the basis I currently pass by pooey-bottomed sheep daily.
I mean, I could practically make this stuff myself.
The Aussie creator of Lanolips did, in fact, grow up on a sheep farm in Australia, so it really has gone from muddy farmyard myth to cult beauty status pretty seamlessly.
I’ve been using two of their products whilst I’ve been here in the UK: Rose Balm Intense (the pink tube in the picture) and Golden Ointment (yellow). The latter is the same idea, at about a third of the price, as Elizabeth Arden’s Eight Hour Cream…and I LOVE it (good for lips, any cuts, dry patches etc).
Rose Balm is good too. It’s for very dry hands and nails and has transformed my mitts from being as rough as sandpaper (which they were when I arrived due to the shock of the freeing cold) to vagueley normal. It works by dispensing a rich bolt of moisture which sinks in almost instantly whilst leaving a very thin, non-greasy protective layer that does seem to, magically, stop the dryness reoccurring.
I hate that lingering grease which some hand creams have and which I then manage to transfer on to everything else, including the car steering wheel/my face etc. This thin veil isn’t at all greasy.
I will be buying them both again and almost long for my flight home when I love slathering myself in rich, moisturising creams. I look forward to smugly producing them from the depths of my so-long-ago-I-can-hardly-remember first class sponge bag which does make the ghastliness my economy flight a tiny bit more bearable.