Snail gel update

E: As promised, I have spent three days in the company of De Tuinen’s Chilean snail slime, made from unharmed, happy Helix Whatthefuck Snail.

M: Are you feeling sluggish? I know I am.

E: Ha. Very good M, I see what you did there. No, the gastropod gel did not have that effect on me. You will recall its promise of smooth silky skin and improved appearance of scarring? Well. I imagine it will come as no surprise to our readers to hear that it is ABSOLUTELY SHITE.

I can report the following effects:

1. Stubborn dry, irritated patch of skin on right cheek

2. Spots around mouth

M: That’s where you’ve been snogged by filthy boys. Filthy.

E: Hmph. Chance would be a fine thing. The closest I have got is being slimed on by a jar of snail mucous. Moving on.

3. Near death, as the jar of Snail Gel launched itself off the top of the fridge, aiming for my head.

M: Launched itself, extreeeeeemely slowly. In the manner of a snail.

E: No, M. The concentrated essence of gastropod moves alarmingly fast. I suspect an attack by the Snafia.

4. Mild irritation, cleaning gloopy slime off the floor.

M: Well, I must say I am disappointed. I thought the Chileans were on to something.

E: Well. It would appear they are onto something murderous, and crap.

M: They have rosehips, and llamas, how could things go so badly wrong with the snail gel?

E: Maybe if you have Chilean skin it works better?

M: Maybe. Maybe you need the high altitude and cheery personality to make it work. Living in Belgium, you have neither.

E: No. You are quite correct. However, I have learnt that my garden is home to a snail anvil, so all is not lost.

M: Oh god. What is a snail anvil?

E: Commenter Alison tells me it is a place where small, bastard birds smash snails open.

M: For snacking?

E: Yes. Oh! That reminds me. I also tasted the Snail Gel, because someone on twitter asked me to. It tasted horrid.

M: Now there’s a surprise.

E: Yes. Astonishing.

M: Honesty, you are a danger to yourself.Somebody needs to lock you in a empty room, with no internet access and no credit cards. You are grounded, E. BEAUTY grounded.

E: Why? Because of the tasting, or the breakage?

M: BOTH.

E: Meanie.

M: Why don’t you sit quietly in a corner and THINK about what you’ve done to your face. When you’re ready to apologize (to your face), you can come out again.

E: I HATE YOU AND I WISH I HAD NEVER BEEN BORN (you can’t see it, but I am flouncing now).

M: I WISH I WAS ADOPTED.

E: I AM ADOPTED AREN’T I? YOU AREN’T MY REAL PARENTS.

M: YOU STOLE MY PARENTS’ KIDNEYS. WHAT’S THE POINT IN LIVING ANYMORE?

E: YEAH. AND I NEED TWENTY QUID TO TOP UP MY PHONE. So. In conclusion: Snail Gel, even at half price, is a pile of evil mucous. The end.

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M likes bright powders in tiny pots and anything that will make her hair more Jen Brill and less Shaun the Sheep.

12 Comments

  • April 6, 2010

    Lisa-Marie

    E, you are truly brave. I can’t believe you tasted snail trail. You should get an expensive bath product prize for bravery.

  • April 6, 2010

    Lindsey

    Bravo for bravery. Until you dropped the jar on the floor (accident? I think not…) you were really taking one for the team with this snail gel bullshit. Now, if only you can get to the bottom of the bizarre claim from Dove about women feeling sexier when their underarms are graced by Dove deodorant . . .

  • April 6, 2010

    Alison Cross

    Ladies – yet again I have been giggling loudly whilst reading your work.

    This is a major miracle given that it is the Easter hols and I have a small boy under my feet all day and a UBFunkey (don’t ask) that refuses to load onto the pc.

    You deserve a medal for tasting snail slime.

    Hugely disappointed that this didn’t work out. I really thought that it might have been The Thing that works.

    Ali xxx

  • April 6, 2010

    Nellig

    Brilliant. A unflinching expose, no punches pulled. You definitely deserve an expensive bath product now.

    OK, how about an in-depth look at Oil of Olay (as we’re supposed to call it now, even though it’s really Oil of Ulay as everybody knows)? Go on. Oh, you might. Although its image is both cheap and old-fashioned, nay dowdy, it can’t be worse than snail mucus.

    Although I have to say you both already look like dewy-skinned schoolgirls to me anyway.

    Failing that I’d enjoy a good takedown of Laboratoire Garnier. They’ve been asking for it for a long time now.

  • April 6, 2010

    MAGMA

    I commend you for your commitment to a proper scientific and journalistic appraisal of the snail slime, which obviously includes tasting it. Next stop might I suggest a glass of 50 % Elemis 50% vodka on the rocks. Relaxation in a glass.

  • April 6, 2010

    Margaret

    Nellig, where on earth did you find Oil of Olay? Do they still make it? The pink stuff in the glass bottle that Mom had on her dresser that smelled vaguely of Play-Doh and middle age? I use several of the New Olay NASA-developed gels that come in a pump dispenser that can’t be opened when it runs out unless you use your husband’s Dremmel tool and them he bitches about how you gunked it up with lady unguents. And then the “At least I don’t leave my socks on the living room floor” screaming begins and the cat runs under the bed and the entire evening is ruined. So, I use that stuff, but I didn’t know they still made the old formula. Tell me where I can find it–that and Rive Gauche are the scents of my childhood.

    And, Emma, it pains me that I must say this out loud, but please don’t eat snail goo again. And don’t put breakable things on top of the refrigerator. And go to the hardware store and buy a damn mirror because I just know you are planning another standing-on-the-toilet photo shoot. I can sense it.

  • April 6, 2010

    M

    Rive Gauche! That is what my mother used to wear. She would spray it on before going out.
    It’s the smell of grown up women to me, along with the smell of Chanel lipsticks. Oh good. I am turning into my mother.

  • April 6, 2010

    E

    Margaret, I can’t even stand on the toilet in this house, it’s nowhere near a mirror. I have to drag the small Ikea steps into the bathroom to take photos. I might force my gay son to take me to the flea market and buy a mirror this week. A glamorous Liz Taylor mirror (yes, I have been at the Elemis and Vodka tonight)

  • April 6, 2010

    Em

    I applaud your ‘bravery’ and in my head i sang it like James Blunt. But better.

    I have, as Oprah would perhaps say, issues with snails. Every single thing about them gives me goosebumps (and not in strong-shouldered-smouldering way) and makes me queasy. Because Once Upon A Time I sat in a restaurant in Paris trying to impress my cooler-than-cool English boyfriend who had just broken up with a French girl who had perfectly bobbed hair and sneered at me from photos and I thought I ordered chicken but with my crapper than crap French I’d ordered dirty rotten snails and I got drunk and ate them and was sick and he apologised to the waiter and walked me to the door of my hotel and left me there! But I’m fine now.

  • April 7, 2010

    Nellig

    Margaret: You’re right, they don’t seem to make the Playdoh-and-middle-age (God! Yes!) stuff anymore, but I THINK I mean the pink lady-unguent called “active fluid”.

    However you’ve made me realise that I haven’t actually bought any moisturiser since before the Spice Girls first hit the charts. I blame E and M for making me interested in this stuff again after all these years of not bothering.

  • April 7, 2010

    M

    Yeah, Nellig! Them *and* their wrinkly dogs.

  • April 8, 2010

    Spring cleaning

    [...] E: Go on. I like a challenge. I ate snail gel. [...]

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