Sundays are the absolute one. While some are relegated entirely to beneath a duvet, my typical Sunday looks exactly as what this text is sandwiched between, so I thought I'd take you along.
City centre working has taken my Starbucks habit to a daily craving rather than a sporadic treat, so if I'm getting out of bed on a Sunday, I'm getting a Starbucks (or at least a 'proper' coffee).
I've only just realised (in my 24th year) that shopping is definitely a hobby. Not necessarily purchasing - more often than not I am - but the raptures that Dreamworld of a Shopaholic goes into rings true with me. The circuit at Birstall, just outside Leeds, is a pretty easy route to hit on a Sunday, plus 25% off Gap with Glamour lured me into a restock of essential v-necks. Had to talk about the sheer volume of Percy Pig memorabilia that now exists as well. Amongst my favourite sweet treats, and now in every family and friend alternative you can dream of.
Aside from the chill out bits of a Sunday, the regular beauty chores are also present. At a very minimum I wash my daily use face brushes, especially any foundation or concealer brushes I've used through the week. If I'm doing it thoroughly then I'll deep clean any that I've used. I've only just discovered the excellent partnership of baby shampoo & make-up brushes *so soft*.
The pampering is left for a wind down in the evening. Delving into a growing stack of magazines that I always relish in taking an age to get through, I'll flick through with my DHC eye strips*, then lay back with my Hydraluron Moisture Boosting Mask - honestly not rating the latter as much as I'd hoped for. It definitely provides a lush hit of moisture and has changed me into a #1 fan of sheet masks, but no amazing benefits to report... Yet.
And, if there are no gels on my talons, I'll rifle through my arsenal for a new colour of the week. My retro toe separators (decorated by a teenage me) at the ready, I chose OPI's Light My Sapphire for my toes, whilst my enduring gel manicure from Pastille did the work for my fingers.
Typical Sunday, at it's best. Or at least second to getting out from behind the duvet anyway.