Wednesday, 24 October 2012

For the risk of becoming an old woman long before I'm due, I generally tend to avoid the tempting lure of Cath Kidston stores. Look, I KNOW the stuff is awesome, I KNOW every girl wishes her house was full of the floral delights and quintessentially British designs of this wonderful brand, but seriously, I'm gonna save it until I'm forty, living alone and probably a crazy cat lady. I fully embrace the day. Until then, I am fully satisfied with my one and only purchase from my dear Cath, in the form of £8 worth of hand cream.


Cath Kidston Wild Rose Hand Cream is more than money well spent for me. Despite the fact that it last for actual ever, it has a rather reminiscent vibe to it.
A few years ago, a work colleague bought this for me as my Secret Santa. I used it like there was no tomorrow, now whenever I smell it all I can think of is the happy times I had over the Christmas of 2010.



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