Thursday 12 February 2015
Calories: 1,115 (v.good)
Alcohol Units: 0 (this year has been drier than the Gobi dessert)
Minutes spent in the gym: 70 (unheard of)
No. of resolutions broken: 0
Who says resolutions are made to be broken? Am almost six weeks into 2015, and am clearly a changed woman. Am clean, lean (well, lean-ish) Goddess of great willpower.
No longer do I wake up with a jolt to find last night’s make-up half melted down face, half smushed on pillow, gasping for water and regretting the night before’s fourth Martini (before spotting a receipt screwed up next to a half eaten Big Mac that clearly shows I had six Martinis, two tequila slammers AND a Piña Colada. And paid for them at 4am. On a Wednesday night. Who drinks Piña Coladas on a Wednesday night? In fact, who drinks Piña Coladas, ever? Particularly when they calculated last Easter that one Piña Colada is the equivalent of 4 ¼ Cadbury’s Crème Eggs…).
No, now spend all spare time making delicious green smoothies, wearing new Lululemon workout gear and working up a sweat in the gym. Sweat is admittedly often worked-up over dreamy personal trainer who may well be Ryan Gosling’s twin brother. However, today did also manage seven minutes on the cross-trainer and a twenty-two second plank, so will clearly soon be so thin that dreamy personal trainer will fall madly in love with me, propose marriage with Malteser-sized diamond and father our clan of six gorgeous children.
Friday 13 February 2015
Calories: 10,800 (primarily made up of wine, but also included a pizza, two packs of M&S mini sausages, a jumbo bar of Dairy Milk and an entire box of Sift cupcakes meant for colleague’s Birthday which have deduced must have consumed at 3am based on icing on pillow when woke up on Saturday)
Alcohol Units: 12 (v. v. bad)
No of resolutions broken: 24 (AKA all of them)
Gahhhhhh! Am complete and utter abject failure. Have monumentally fallen off the New Year’s resolution wagon and tumbled straight into the gutter of endless despair.
Day started so promisingly with 7am arrival at gym for Body Pump class. Sauntered past dreamy Gosling-esque PT, but then so busy checking studio mirror in crazed attempt to catch him looking at my lycra-clad bottom (with zero success) that didn’t see stack of dumbbells directly in front of me. Seconds later was sprawled on floor yelping in agony.
Dreamy PT (doing nothing to hide his sniggers) was suddenly very obviously looking at my bottom at which point I had sinking realization that leggings had split in fall and were displaying a pair of terrifyingly enormous grey granny pants.
One very red-faced hobble from workout studio to the hospital Emergency Room later, decided there was nothing for it but to take heavily bandaged leg for crisis summit with Katie, Jess and Nina where pizza somehow fell onto my plate and Sauvignon Blanc appeared in my glass.
As evening progressed discovered that memory of dreamy PT doubled over with tears of laughter streaming down his beautiful chiseled cheekbones faded more and more with each glass of wine. Eventually had to be carried home hiccupping by Katie and Nina while Jess followed behind carrying handbags and crutches.
Sunday 15 February 2015
Calories: 1,525 (more like it)
Alcohol Units: 2 (medicinal)
No. of minutes Googling ‘secret to looking like Victoria Beckham/J-Lo/Kylie’: 348
Shame of fall from saintly 2015 perch still haunting every waking moment (as are dreamy PT’s howls of laughter). Worse yet though was sight of grey, grizzled complexion on Saturday morning. Initially thought my Mother had sprung surprise weekend visit on me, only to realize with horrified start that the crumpled, dull, haggered face was in fact my own reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Promptly began wildly planning facelifts, heavy duty Botox and multiple chemical peels before pouring self a large glass of sympathy Sauvignon Blanc and miserably flicking through stack of glossy of magazines. Suddenly had lightening bolt moment as spied article featuring glowy-faced Helena Christensen
holding glass of wine. Immediately poured self second glass of Sauvignon Blanc.
Looking closer at article, realized was not at all about Christensen boozing her way to better skin, but actually a piece about a brand new Caudalie product made from grape seeds and grape vine extracts – a sort of magical beautifying elixir for the face called Premier Cru The Elixir. As read more about this 99.5% natural, part serum, part oil and its claims to brighten, tighten and fight the signs of aging, decided that was too much of a coincidence that had discovered a wine-inspired product promising gorgeousness of supermodel proportions on the very day that wine had caused my ultimate low of the year so far. Grabbed coat, face-concealing, supersized scarf and scarlet beret (v.French, v. Caudalie) and dashed (as fast as bandaged leg could carry me) out of door, headed straight for Caudalie Boutique Spa on Gough Street in NoHo.
Arrived breathlessly at glossy glass-fronted boutique decked out with gorgeous chandeliers and a pale wood interior that reminded me of a cross-between a super-luxe spa and my favourite French vineyard. Very helpful, pretty Caudalie product specialist (looking even sparklier than the chandeliers) rushed straight to my aid and babbled impressive smoother, younger more radiant skin stats all backed-up by mind-boggingly scientific research.
Excitedly told the girl would pay any money to get hands on a bottle of this one-and-done, fix-all wonder, at which point angelic Caudalie girl made my year by slipping small package into my palm – a miniature bottle of Premier Cru The Elixir. Beaming, she told me in a low whisper that there were a handful of deluxe samples that she could dole out to premier Caudalie customers in the know. Feeling a warm glow of being labeled a knowledgeable, premier Caudalie customer began to Whatsapp the girls with the news of my beauty haul when suddenly decided this might just be the sort of secret it’s best to keep under your beret…
Would you like to join Ms. 852 in trying Caudalie’s newly launched cult-favourite miracle product Premier Cru The Elixir? CLICK HERE to enter your contact details, and an exclusive deluxe sample will be sitting on your vanity table in no time. (Hurry, as it is available on a first-come first-served basis!)
Stay tuned! The Diary of Ms. 852 will be continued next week…
To read the next installment, click here!