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EVERY SO OFTEN, I buy something in the hope that it will change my life forever. I’m talking fancy shampoo, reusable water bottles, leisure wear — you know yourself.
Almond oil is frequently touted as one of those cure-all potions. Have dry skin? Use almond oil. Need to condition your hair? Fear not for almond oil is here!
Having read an article about Nicole Richie’s beauty routine in which she revealed that she used “multiple oils” on her body, I decided it was time to follow suit and invest in “multiple oils”.
I then marched on over to Holland & Barrett, and bought almond oil, certain that it would make me look like a newborn unicorn. “Soon I will glisten like Nicole Richie.”
Did it change my life? It did not. A few days later, I put it in my bag without securing the top properly and the whole thing leaked, and I never bothered my arse replacing it. I have yet to discover the secret to looking like Nicole Richie.
A giant pack of red lentils
This giant pack of red lentils were purchased in Dunnes Stores after I read an article about cheap, healthy meals and deluded myself into thinking that I would actually start making vats of nourishing lentil soup for dinner each week.
“This is truly a gamechanger,” I thought, behaving as though I was the first person to discover lentils.
Did it change my life? No. The bag of red lentils remained unopened in my cupboard for months until I eventually moved out of my apartment and threw it in the bin.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
A diary
Every year, without fail, I purchase a diary and decide that this will be the year I become incredibly organised and have to say things like, “Oh, I might free on that date. Let me just consult my diary like the glamorous woman I am.”
This year was no different.
Did it change my life? LOL, I stopped using it on January 17th.
At some point, I decided that the only thing precluding me from bringing my lunch to work was my lack of a “good” lunchbox, so I decided to rectify that and purchase a medium-sized lunchbox.
You know, the kind that your sensible colleague brings with them to work every day and makes you think, “God, they really have their life together, don’t they?” (The same colleague also wears runners while walking to work and really likes the idea of garden allotments.)
I was going to be that Sensible Colleague.
Did it change my life? I accidentally left leftover spaghetti bolognese in it for so long that it turned into an Unidentified Frozen Block and so I just threw the whole thing away.
In supermarket: “Shite, I don’t have any bags. Ah sure, this is only €1.50. I’ll buy one.”
At home: “Okay, make sure you remember to bring one the next time you go to the supermarket.”
In supermarket: *pays €1.50 for yet another reusable shopping bag*
*repeat ad infinitum*
Did it change my life? Only in terms of the fact that I am now the proud owner of at least 76 reusable shopping bags.
A tap dancing kit
Amy O'Connor
Amy O'Connor
I bought this tap dancing kit in TK Maxx during my So You Think You Can Dance obsession. (So You Think You Can Dance > all other reality shows.)
Despite the fact that I hadn’t taken any sort of dance class since I was eleven years old, I convinced myself that €9.99 tap dancing kit was all I needed to unleash my inner Ginger Rogers. “Teachers? Actual classes? Proper tap shoes? Talk about amateur hour, wha’?”
Did it change my life? Absolutely not. The kit included a 12-page book, a crap CD and taps. Crucially, it did not include tap dancing shoes. I briefly considered purchasing a pair on eBay, but thankfully came to my senses.
The tap dancing kit didn’t include a giant dance studio either, meaning I was relegated to practicing in my tiny bedroom. Minor nuisance!
As you can imagine, I lost interest in tap dancing after about, oh, 10 minutes. It turns out dancing is really very difficult and requires extensive training — who knew?
At some point, I decided that the only thing stopping me from exercising more was my lack of suitable socks. “I’d love to go for a run, but alas all my socks look silly and don’t provide enough arch support. Or something.”
So I decided to do what any self-respecting woman would do and spent a small fortune on trainer socks, fully believing that comfortable trainer socks were the secret to loving exercise.
Did it change my life? Nope, turns out I just actually hate exercise and no amount of fancy socks will change that!
After months of ‘liking’ people’s impossibly photogenic porridge — seriously, how much time do people spend artfully arranging acai berries in their bowl? — I caved and bought a giant sack of magic chia powder.
“Perfect for sprinkling in your porridge or yoghurt!” the bag promised and I decided that €9.99 was a small price to pay for immortality/eternal youth. (Chia makes you live forever, right?)
Did it change my life? Too early to say. I’ll let you know in 70 years time when I hopefully look like this:
Thursday 7 November, 2024
Thursday 7 November, 2024
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Things I Have Bought That I Thought Would Change My Life
EVERY SO OFTEN, I buy something in the hope that it will change my life forever. I’m talking fancy shampoo, reusable water bottles, leisure wear — you know yourself.
Here are some of those purchases.
Almond oil
Almond oil is frequently touted as one of those cure-all potions. Have dry skin? Use almond oil. Need to condition your hair? Fear not for almond oil is here!
Having read an article about Nicole Richie’s beauty routine in which she revealed that she used “multiple oils” on her body, I decided it was time to follow suit and invest in “multiple oils”.
I then marched on over to Holland & Barrett, and bought almond oil, certain that it would make me look like a newborn unicorn. “Soon I will glisten like Nicole Richie.”
Did it change my life? It did not. A few days later, I put it in my bag without securing the top properly and the whole thing leaked, and I never bothered my arse replacing it. I have yet to discover the secret to looking like Nicole Richie.
A giant pack of red lentils
This giant pack of red lentils were purchased in Dunnes Stores after I read an article about cheap, healthy meals and deluded myself into thinking that I would actually start making vats of nourishing lentil soup for dinner each week.
“This is truly a gamechanger,” I thought, behaving as though I was the first person to discover lentils.
Did it change my life? No. The bag of red lentils remained unopened in my cupboard for months until I eventually moved out of my apartment and threw it in the bin.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
A diary
Every year, without fail, I purchase a diary and decide that this will be the year I become incredibly organised and have to say things like, “Oh, I might free on that date. Let me just consult my diary like the glamorous woman I am.”
This year was no different.
Did it change my life? LOL, I stopped using it on January 17th.
A lunchbox
At some point, I decided that the only thing precluding me from bringing my lunch to work was my lack of a “good” lunchbox, so I decided to rectify that and purchase a medium-sized lunchbox.
You know, the kind that your sensible colleague brings with them to work every day and makes you think, “God, they really have their life together, don’t they?” (The same colleague also wears runners while walking to work and really likes the idea of garden allotments.)
I was going to be that Sensible Colleague.
Did it change my life? I accidentally left leftover spaghetti bolognese in it for so long that it turned into an Unidentified Frozen Block and so I just threw the whole thing away.
Reusable shopping bags
My life:
In supermarket: “Shite, I don’t have any bags. Ah sure, this is only €1.50. I’ll buy one.”
At home: “Okay, make sure you remember to bring one the next time you go to the supermarket.”
In supermarket: *pays €1.50 for yet another reusable shopping bag*
*repeat ad infinitum*
Did it change my life? Only in terms of the fact that I am now the proud owner of at least 76 reusable shopping bags.
A tap dancing kit
I bought this tap dancing kit in TK Maxx during my So You Think You Can Dance obsession. (So You Think You Can Dance > all other reality shows.)
Despite the fact that I hadn’t taken any sort of dance class since I was eleven years old, I convinced myself that €9.99 tap dancing kit was all I needed to unleash my inner Ginger Rogers. “Teachers? Actual classes? Proper tap shoes? Talk about amateur hour, wha’?”
Did it change my life? Absolutely not. The kit included a 12-page book, a crap CD and taps. Crucially, it did not include tap dancing shoes. I briefly considered purchasing a pair on eBay, but thankfully came to my senses.
The tap dancing kit didn’t include a giant dance studio either, meaning I was relegated to practicing in my tiny bedroom. Minor nuisance!
As you can imagine, I lost interest in tap dancing after about, oh, 10 minutes. It turns out dancing is really very difficult and requires extensive training — who knew?
Trainer socks
At some point, I decided that the only thing stopping me from exercising more was my lack of suitable socks. “I’d love to go for a run, but alas all my socks look silly and don’t provide enough arch support. Or something.”
So I decided to do what any self-respecting woman would do and spent a small fortune on trainer socks, fully believing that comfortable trainer socks were the secret to loving exercise.
Did it change my life? Nope, turns out I just actually hate exercise and no amount of fancy socks will change that!
Chia powder
After months of ‘liking’ people’s impossibly photogenic porridge — seriously, how much time do people spend artfully arranging acai berries in their bowl? — I caved and bought a giant sack of magic chia powder.
“Perfect for sprinkling in your porridge or yoghurt!” the bag promised and I decided that €9.99 was a small price to pay for immortality/eternal youth. (Chia makes you live forever, right?)
Did it change my life? Too early to say. I’ll let you know in 70 years time when I hopefully look like this:
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Craic Gamechanger Shopping