Sjal Saphir Concentrate Review

A tiny blue bottle of calm, this is.  I haven't tried too many Sjal products up to now, (though I have mentioned this one before, actually), but I'm aware that 30mls of product for £125 is a big investment for almost anyone, so I thought it needed a more in-depth review. 

Sjal describe this product as: "a powerful, modern face treatment oil with an artisanal blend of rare essential oils and supra-3ä, a proprietary anti-aging bioactive complex designed to visibly diminish the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles, increase elasticity, plump and revitalize skin. This ‘liquid silk’ weightless oil is infused with Himalayan blue sapphires and aquamarine known to facilitate clarity, calming and balance."

It's a dry oil texture, which is very light, and sinks in very quickly, it never feels greasy, and your skin doesn't feel overloaded in use.  I use it in my nighttime routine, as a serum under a balm, but if your skin isn't as dehydrated as mine is at the moment, you could probably skip a moisturiser as well.

As regular readers might remember, my skin is sensitive, and reddened, even at the best of times, and, after my recent bout of multiple hospitalisations and medical procedures, it's been rather dehydrated, and feeling rather rough as a result too. I've found this oil to have a cooling and calming, and most of all, hydrating effect on my skin.  It has a light citrus fragrance, but this disperses quite quickly, and doesn't linger on the skin.

I find that using this as a night treatment has really calmed down my redness, and it's given my skin a new lease of life, with a better, clearer, more refreshed and even tone, which is fabulous.  If you're under 35 or so, then you really do not need this, but if you're over 35, and feeling a bit run-down, this has worked marvels for my skin.

A simplified list of the ingredients is:

Camellia Oil,
Capric triglyceride (a fatty acid derived from coconut)
Grape seed oil
Meadowfoam seed oil
Macademia oil
Bitter orange oil
Jasmine oil
Sweet orange oil
Lavender oil
Clary Sage oil
Evening Primrose oil
Cotton seed oil
Linseed oil
Camomile oil
Rosemary extract
Sunflower oil
Bidens Pilosa extract (a plant commonly known as "cobblers pegs")
Alaria Esculenta (a kind of seaweed)
Palm oil
Tocopherol (a form of vitamin e)

I'm a little unhappy to see palm oil on the list (but at least it is way down the list), but this is a nice light formula, without mineral oil, without pthalates and parabens, that feels nourishing and light on the skin.

You can buy Sjal Saphir Concentrate from BeautyWorksWest for £125.
  
The Fine Print: PR Sample, which I'm planning to eke out for as long as possible ... 
  
This post: Sjal Saphir Concentrate Review originated at: Get Lippie All rights reserved. If you are not reading this post at Get Lippie, then this content has been stolen by a scraper

Evans & #Bootgate continued ...

I promise, no more boot-based posts or tweets after this. I'm fed up of me. However I got the following email just now:

Hi Louise,

I am sorry to hear that you wish to decline the offer of £25.00 and are not happy with our goodwill gesture. Unfortunately we feel that this offer is appropriate to the nature of your complaint and are unable to increase this offer any further.

We are still looking into any information from the couriers and will update you once we have received a response from them in regards to the parcel being returned to us.

Kind Regards,
Evans Customer Services

To which I have responded:

Actually, the reason I keep declining your goodwill gestures is not because of the amount, but because of their content. I've made it perfectly clear on several occasions that I no longer wish to be a customer of yours because of the way I've been treated in the preceding four days.

Any "goodwill gesture" from any company where the offended party is then tied into further transactions with the organisation that has caused offence are something everyone should routinely reject.

It's not a goodwill gesture for you to ask me for more money (the offer of a 10% discount on a "next purchase"). It is not a goodwill gesture for a company to offer something that is, essentially, worthless (a £10 gift card) without me spending money of my own. A goodwill gesture is something that doesn't rely on me having to become a customer again, as it is the very act of being one of your customers that has caused the problem on this occasion. I'm not complaining about a faulty product, or a bit of upset caused by a thoughtless comment from a staff member, this little problem has cost me in the region of £350 when you add in lost work, the cost of other items I have had to buy to make up for your lack of delivery on this occasion, not to mention the hours (and I mean that literally) I've had to put into these emails, and my blogpost to get your company to take my situation seriously.

So, as a compromise, I suggest this: If you want to make a "goodwill gesture", then actually *make* a gesture. One that will engender actual, real, genuine and sincere goodwill. Send some flowers, make a donation to charity (I'll choose it if you like), apologise publicly, or something - anything! - but, whatever you or your boss decides to do, just do something that isn't merely a "Here's a voucher, now go buy something else from us and get out of our hair"-shaped "gesture", please.

 

I'll edit this post later if they respond.  Many thanks to everyone for the tweets, DMs, Facebook messages and emails I've had regarding this morning's blog post, I've really appreciated the support today! I don't normally worry about pressing publish, but today I did. I'm glad I didn't have to...

Edited to add:

They changed their offer from a £25 "gift" card to a £25 cheque.  I have accepted this, and will donate it to charity.

The boots are still, at the time of writing, "with the courier for delivery".

I will never shop at Evans Online again.

This post: Evans & #Bootgate Continued  originated at: Get Lippie All rights reserved. If you are not reading this post at Get Lippie, then this content has been stolen by a scraper

Dear Evans Clothing & Hermes ...

 (Warning, not really a beauty-related post, it contains intense self-deprecation, a bit of a rant, and some stupid acronyms.  If you want something a bit fluffy, might be best to look elsewhere today.  Also, it's very long.  Might be best to read something else.  No, seriously, nothing to see here. Not really.)

Dear Evans and Hermes,

Your two companies are a match made in hell, and you need a divorce.  I'll explain why later, but for now, let me tell you a tale of woe ...

Let's get one thing out of the way, I am fat.  There's no two ways around it, I'm a fat person.  I'm not particularly bothered by it (and I'm less fat than I used to be these days, anyway), I'm fairly pleasant looking from the neck up, I've got a cracking rack - we shall not discuss my mid-section, lest it get bogged down in complaints about my recent kidney problems - my thighs don't bother me in the slightest, but from the knees down it's nothing but grief.  I've written about my feet, and the constant pain I'm in, before, and about how shoe shopping is possibly my least favourite thing to do in the entire world.  

However, there is only one thing on the planet that ever reduces me to hot, salty, snot-bubbling tears of inchoate rage and sheer impotent frustration in seconds flat, faster than shoe-shopping, and that is boot-shopping.

For, underneath the blubber that a lifetime of worship at the temple of the goddess of lard has created on my frame, I have tiny bones.  My feet are a size four and a half, five at the most, and I have the handspan of the average pre-teen.  I'm not very tall, either.  Boots, even Duo of Bath (who I once travelled across the country to visit when they had only one store, only to find that the only pair that I could fit into made me look like a midget pirate.  Not a good look for an accountant, frankly) find the concept of small feet/big calves hard to deal with.  As do I, frankly.  I often see women larger than myself  (I'm a size 18 at the moment, down from a 22 recently, and soon to be a 16, thank you, Slimming World) wearing boots quite happily, and I am reduced to frothing with searing jealousy that THEY can wear boots, and I, thanks to the Enormo-Calves of Doom (E-CoD for short), cannot.

I used to have a pair of boots.  All-elastic, they were, with a block heel, and I loved them.  I loved them, even though they had a tendency to roll down throughout the day, and I'd end up wearing elasticated ankle-warmers.  I need elastic in my boots (something Duo boots tend not to contain much of), to cope with the sudden change in size between my relatively slim ankles and the aforementioned E-CoD.  I've tried on boots in bigger sizes - say, size eight - and managed to fasten them with no problems whatsoever, but I can't cope with padding boots up to four sizes too big, I wouldn't be able to walk!

Writing this, I'm aware, suddenly, that my ideal pair of boots is essentially a thick-soled pair of flat shoes, with a squareish toe-box, and a leather shin-pad, finished off at the back with what is, essentially, a black compression bandage.  Hmn ... sexy ...

Actually, maybe not that bad:

Anyway, "how does this involve Evans and Hermes?" I hear you cry.  Don't worry, I'm getting there. Simply put, the thing is that I want to wear boots.  I'm tired of only being able to wear trousers and shoes.  It's dull, and I'm frumpy as a result.  I want to add skirts to my wardrobe, and not freeze to death (even thermal tights only do so much).  I was invited to be a guest speaker at a blogging conference this weekend, alongside some fashion bloggers - more about this later on in the week - and I wanted to wear something ... snazzy.  I discovered a dress I'd bought some time ago in the dim and distant recesses of my wardrobe, found myself a little sequinned jacket, and knew what would finish it off nicely ...

... Boots.

I am an IDIOT.  Having recently lost a bit of weight, I thought this year would be the year of boots.  Correspondingly, I ordered myself a pair from Evans, at 12:49 on Wednesday 7th,  as their next day delivery costs only £5.  Never have I been made more aware that you get what you pay for - or, as in my case, you don't, actually, get anything that you've paid for.  Naively, I thought ordering something to arrive via next day delivery would allow me to get the boots to finish my outfit in good  enough time to try them, and decide whether or not I wanted to keep them.

I am an IDIOT (and I'm bored of writing this now). So anyway, the upshot is that the boots never arrived.  In fact, at the time of writing, they still haven't arrived.  Apparently, (according to their website) Hermes tried to deliver at 1524 on Thursday 8th, at 1949 on Friday 9th, and 1800 on Saturday 10th (long after I'd asked Evans to cancel the delivery, by this point).

Yeah, right

Hermes are lying. Or their courier is, rather.

How do I know?  MrLippie was home at all those times, (I was only home for the Friday "visit") and no one knocked on our door, rang our bell, or even ... left a card to say they'd called. UPS left a card to say they'd tried to deliver to someone else in the building, and, all the rest of our post arrived, so clearly, other companies know how doorbells work.

I spoke to Evans on Twitter last Thursday who put their customer service team onto what happened (who thanked me for my comments on Facebook - at least *read* your complaints, please), as, according to the Hermes website, all my complaints, requests and queries have to go through the company I made the order through. And, I have to say that I've been patronised by one particular Evans employee ever since.  Two people have dealt with my complaint, one has been fine, and the other one  ... well. I'm not going to go into it much, but suffice it to say that every email from Evans customer services made me feel worse about having placed my order with them, rather than better.  Yes, I've been angry. Yes, I've broken out the caps lock. But when the initial response to your complaint isn't even addressing your complaint properly, well, it's simply not good enough, frankly.

Evans are sorry, apparently, that I "feel" like no delivery has been attempted.  Well, Evans,  I'm sorry that your courier company have lied not once, not twice, but (at the time of writing) three times, both to me, and to you.  They've cost you a customer.  And I suspect I'm not alone - my twitter followers are full of horror stories about Hermes and their "delivery" service.  I, for one, am refusing to shop online with anyone who uses them. Fool me once, shame on me, fool me twice, shame on you.  Fool me three times ... we are done.

I wore yoga shoes to my event.  Thanks, Clarks ;)

Share your home-delivery nightmare stories here, I'd love to hear them.


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Clinique Chubby Stick Intense: Curviest Caramel, Plushest Punch, Chunkiest Chilli

Judging by the amount of imitators currently on the market, Clinique's Chubby Sticks have been one of the most successful product launches of all time.  A balm consistency, with a hint of pigment, Chubby Sticks are perfect for this "can't be bothered thinking about my makeup" days, and I have a selection of the shades.  They're easy to wear, and comfortable, and there's a big enough range of shades to suit almost everyone.

Sometimes, however, you want a bit more ... well, bang for your buck.  Well, certainly it has to be admitted that £16 is rather expensive for a lip balm with a hint of a tint.  This month Clinique launch Chubby Stick Intense for those of us who like a bit more pigment with our balms.  I've got three shades to show you:

From left to right, we have Curviest Caramel, Plushest Punch and Chunkiest Chilli (which has to win prizes for the worst named lip product, ever).  Caramel is a nude, Punch is a bright pink, and Chilli is a red-brown.

They are actually surprisingly pigmented, and they haven't sacrificed too much of their conditioning properties to bring you the colour, either, which is nice.  Lasting time is about average, a couple of hours, but they don't feel either greasy or sticky, and they don't dry your lips out.  You can mix them into new shades too, I find a combination of Punch and Chilli makes a nice bright red, and you know how I like my reds ...

Do you think you'll be picking any of the new Chubby Sticks up?  They're bringing out a version for eyes in the spring, and I can't wait ... 

The Fine Print: PR Samples. Is it just me, or does Chunkiest Chilli sound .... pre-digested?

This post: Clinique Chubby Stick Intense: Curviest Caramel, Plushest Punch, Chunkiest Chilli originated at: Get Lippie on 8 November 2012 All rights reserved. If you are not reading this post at Get Lippie, then this content has been stolen by a scraper

FashionistA Secret Gel Eyeliner in Under the Radar

I don't get all that excited about drugstore makeup, it's true.  I've been accused of being a makeup snob many times, and, to a certain extent, I'd agree.  Whilst it's not entirely true that you get what you pay for when it comes to cosmetics, after several years writing this blog, I do firmly believe that what you do pay for when it comes to expensive cosmetics is better research and product development, and - in the main- slightly better ingredients.  

However, this doesn't mean that I only have a makeup bag full of Tom Ford and la Prairie, what I mainly believe in is value for money, and that means I like to get my money's worth out of my products, whatever their price point.   Take, for example, this little pot of eyeliner that I bought because I fell in love with the colour.  It's a taupe, as some people might have noticed, and it's long been noticeable that I can't resist a taupe ... 

FashionistA Secret Gel Eyeliner in Under the Radar costs £6, it's a massive pot of product, and should last practically forever, it comes with a built in brush, and is rather creamy, and easy to apply.

However, as an eyeliner, I'm a little underwhelmed, it's a little underpowered in the pigment department, and takes several layers to build up into something visible, which can lead to it caking somewhat, which then leads to flaking.

 But, it is such a beautiful colour, a grey/silver/taupe shade, with a myriad of other shades visible in the mix too, so I was determined to make this work for me, so I've been using it as an eyeshadow base, and here's where is works magnificently.  It's creamy so it spreads well, and you can blend eyeshadows over it beautifully.  It's not as "grabby" as a traditional silicone-based eyeshadow base (or primer), and, of course, it imparts a beautiful colour to the lids too.  It doesn't dry the lids out (so may not work to well if you have oily eyelids, however), and it lasts incredibly well, getting about eight hours wear before there's a sign of creasing. I've been using it as a basis for a taupe smokey eye for the last week, and I've fallen in love with this product as a result.

So, as an eyeliner, I'd have to say that cheap though this product is, it's simply not worth the money, however, as an eyeshadow primer, that £6 could be the best £6 you've ever spent ...       

The Fine Print: A purchase.
 
This post: FashionistA Secret Gel Eyeliner in Under the Radar originated at: Get Lippie on 9th November 2012. All rights reserved. If you are not reading this post at Get Lippie, then this content has been stolen by a scraper