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The luxury of modern times

The wonders of human innovation were hammered home to me this week, when it came to my attention that I was sharing my shower space with a bottle of shampoo that purported to smell like 'whipped silk'. It took me some time to comprehend the enormity of such a claim, but once it hit me, I was quite overcome.

The wonders of human innovation were hammered home to me this week, when it came to my attention that I was sharing my shower space with a bottle of shampoo that purported to smell like ‘whipped silk’. It took me some time to comprehend the enormity of such a claim, but once it hit me, I was quite overcome. Oh, humanity! I thought. Once again you prove yourself to be a species of limitless talent! Somewhere in the world exists a genius who has not only invented a method for whipping silk, but has discovered how to bottle the delicious odour emitted by the said process. Do miracles never cease?

So affected was I by this discovery that on my next trip to Tesco, I found myself lingering idly in the cosmetics aisle. Well! I don’t mind admitting that I was bowled over by the extent of human ingenuity. The range of options with which to enliven one’s bathroom experience is nothing short of astounding. Such an ample supply of heady infusions! Such a vast array of sensuous delights! There are lotions scented with passion flower and potions scented with mulberries. There are tantalising combinations of tiare flower and wild violets, of jojoba milk and liquid amber. Nivea have even produced a deodorant containing ‘extract of pearl’, which is a fine example of human endeavour if ever I heard of one. I cannot but commend a company that succeeds not only in extracting pearls from the depths of the ocean without a peep of criticism from Greenpeace, but in liquidising the said pearls, pumping them into cans and selling them for a mere £2.50.

I will even go so far as to say that my heart swells with pride when I contemplate the achievements of 21st century science. For is it not a fine thing to be able to bottle ‘morning paradise’? Or indeed, the ‘African savannah’? And is it not a stroke of genius to produce a shaving cream made from ‘radiant apricot’? I simply cannot think of anything more beautiful than a radiant apricot. Picture it! A ripe and sumptuous example of this fine fruit, ablaze with light as if touched by the hand of God Himself! And to think that I, in my ignorance, had previously assumed that the only kind of radiant apricot was one that had been dusted in nuclear fallout! Admittedly, I am unsure that radiant apricots smell noticeably different to ordinary ones – unless, of course, they give off a faint odour of burning sugar – but such concerns pale into insignificance when one contemplates the magical notion of canning light and using it to shave one’s legs. It is equally as captivating as the idea of coating one’s armpits in liquid pearls. Oh, but these are exciting times!

Your call, reader.  Go forth! Spend lavishly! Reap the benefits of this age of decadent luxury in which we are privileged to live!

And now I fear I’ve no more energy for fawning, so I hope you’ll excuse me as I retire to the bathful of simmered organza that awaits me upstairs.

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