Jeez, just a few thousand entries to win the Milky Foot product.

Congrats to Elizma le Roux whose boyfriend has asked her to no longer play footsie footsie with him for fear of drawing blood from his leg.

Enjoy the holiday tomorrow people, I’m going to spend it nursing the hangover I’m very excited about getting tonight.

Yay!

So I was sent this a few weeks ago:

I looked down at my own feet which looked like a foot version of the San Andreas Fault and enquired to The Lawyer if I should attempt to use this Milk Foot thingy.

Me: I’m not sure I need this product.

The Lawyer: I’m pretty sure you do.

Me: My feet aren’t that bad, perhaps not what you would call ‘milky soft’ exactly.

TL: Your feet look like they were once milk, which turned sour, then dried up and someone then poured cement in them.

Me: A bit extreme but I see your point.

With nothing to lose, I slipped my footsies into the slipper type things, squelched around the house for ten minutes until I was told I was making too much noise, sat in front of the TV for the remaining 50 minutes and then took them off.

It’s been ten days now and I am obsessed with my feet. I’m literally shedding skin in long sheaths and keep showing them to people.

Me: Ok feel this skin here and now feel THIS skin!

Housemate: No.

Me: FEEL!

HM: I absolutely don’t want to feel your skin.

So I moved on to The Lawyer.

Me: Feel my feet!

TL: Isn’t it enough that I can SEE the difference?

Me: Nope.

TL: Baglett, please, you have been shedding your skin all over my car. When you got out the other day, it looked like it had been snowing on my mat. I have never seen so much skin come off one foot.

Me: I was wondering how I lost a kilo in the last week.

TL: Your kilo is all over my car. Please do your shedding outside.

I may have been slightly selfish in my quest to get teenage-looking feet, but it has totally been worth it. I now want to shake feet instead of hands.

And in the spirit of younger, softer looking feet, I’m giving away one of these Milk Foot hampers to you guys! So email me on baglett@baglett.co.za with ‘Milky Foot’ in the subject and I’ll announce the winner tomorrow!

There’s something quite gratifying about watching someone else in the hot seat being shat on about their hair. It’s like watching someone speed past you when you know there’s a hidden camera ahead.

So here is Sarah, the winner of the Alexia’s Hair Studio makeover in the midst of getting her hair done by the Alexia the Great. Inbetween her shouting at me, the innocent bystander, for using a GHD and still washing my hair with Pantene, she worked her special scissors on Sarah’s mane.

Alexia: So Sarah, what products do you use?

Me: Say Kerastase or you’re never going to hear the end of it.

Sarah: I’m using horse shampoo!

Oh. My. God.

Alexia: Horse shampoo!? Are you crazy?!

Sarah: It’s called Manes and Tails.

Me: You just told a woman holding sharp scissors that you use horse shampoo.

Sarah: It’s great, it’s about fifty bucks and you get the hugest bottle!

Me: Yip, you’re probably just making it worse.

Unfortunately the make up artist Stavroula Georgakis arrived before Sarah could tell her she also likes to pour lemon juice on her hair and then sit in the sun.

The make up artist who specialises in film and TV took Sarah’s request to make her ‘model hot’ seriously and spent an hour on Sarah’s make up while I played with her kit until she smacked me on my hand.

Me: I was just looking. No need for violence. How about I be your assistant?

Make up artist: I don’t need an assistant.

Me: But I’m bored.

Make up artist: Drink your wine.

Me: Hey check it out – Moulin ROUGE! Hahahahahaha

Make up artist: Put the blusher down. And please stop hovering around me.

Me: Am I your EYE shadow?!

So after a bottle of wine and five hours of me annoying Alexia and Stavroula, Sarah went from this:

Holy crap

To this:

One might say, a vast improvement. One might say, 'holy crap' again, but for a whole different reason.

Miracles. The do happen.