Ridiculous Product Of The Day: Season-Scented Washing-Up Liquid

I had an exciting 60 seconds in the cleaning aisle at Coles this afternoon, seeking out some dishwashing liquid. Should be simple - something that doesn't smell offensive, and just cleans my pots and pans. I was rather astonished to find, amongst the pedestrian lemon/lemon-lime/orange-antibacterial varieties, that Palmolive have released a line of washing-up liquid that's scented like...seasons. As in, "summer breeze" and "winter warmth". Winter warmth? Like, smoky wood fires and asthma-inducing fog? Summer breeze - sea air and fresh grass clippings? Or perhaps a different kind of grass clipping that wafts over summer music festivals?

The thing is, no kind of cleaning product that claims to be "fragranced", actually smells anything remotely like lemons or oranges or even lavender. They just all have the reassuring scent of chemical disinfectant. Oh, how we love inhaling those toxins - but how sparkling clean our benchtops are! You know what else made me pause and reflect? That ad for hand wash where the kid won't stand still for "long enough" to wash his hands "properly", but luckily this particular anti-bacterial cleanser works in just ten seconds. So he's free to run back outside and dig for grubs asap. Now, have you ever counted the seconds when washing your hands? I'd be willing to bet most adults don't even suds-up for ten seconds. Not the one-mississippi, two-mississippi time keeping method anyway. So the chance of kids even reaching 4 seconds is a fairly big ask. Now, mothers around the country are not only wondering at the bad over-dubbing on the ad, but also at how their kids must be running around with disgusting, miniscule germs wriggling shamelessly all over their hands - and all the soap that must have previously been used in vain. Pointless scare-mongering, I tells ya!

Anyway, back to Palmolive. Either the people who's job it is to come up with new and exciting scents for cleaning detergents were running really, really thin on ideas, or they wondered in a crazy, mad scientist Willy Wonka kinda way if they could really bottle the scent of a summer's day. Or, perhaps they thought that if they make their liquid a slightly different colour to the usual and package it appropriately - oranges and red and autumn leaves for winter, which incidentally would in fact be autumn and not winter; and pink and purple flowers for summer, which is actually more like spring if you think about it -  they could convince people of dubious olfactory abilities that they really are whiffing winter warmth when they wash their crockery. To be fair, I didn't smell either, as I probably would have been politely escorted from the store if I had tried, so maybe they really are amazing, Heston-Blumenthal-of-the-cleaning-world creations that have the ability to awaken and alight your other senses, as well as give your glassware sparkling shine. But maybe they're just another useless product that we don't need, but subconsciously kinda want to try in the vain hope they might be better than regular Palmolive. At least they aren't completely useless products - they will clean your dishes, after all - unlike these:

An icecream cone that turns the icecream for you. WTF?!

Baby wipes warmer. Presumably it also dries out your wipes so they're not too wet.

Electronic spin the bottle. So, in effect, you don't actually have to spin the bottle.

Light up slippers. Perfect for lighting up the few millimetres in front of your toes. And annoying everybody else.

Hamburger holder. Though you do have to hold the holder.

Much Ado About Garbage Bags

These are strange economic times we live in. We are meant to be watching our dollars, buying investments rather than throw-aways, going all organic and green, simplifying and downsizing; and yet, there occassionally comes a moment that is really quite small, yet somehow so significant. Ok, that's a slight exaggeration, much like when fashion magazines claim baggy-crotch pants are hot, but sometimes little things stick with you as an indication of the times. Not surprisingly, my little epiphany came under the fluro lights of Coles (FYI, NEVER go there on a Thursday arvo when pensioners and bogans get 'paid'. It is a nightmare congestion of slacks, ugg boots, random children and painfully slow checkout lines).

Wandering down the cleaning aisle, I paused to ponder the best value garbage bags, as one must do in times like these, when I noticed a brand selling silver bags, so they can match your stainless steel kitchen. WTF?! The label had a picture of a lady looking as though all her dreams had come at once, and a quote 'I love my new designer kitchen, and now my garbage bags can perfectly match my stainless steel decor". WHO gives an arse about the colour of garbage bags??? I'm all for accessorising but if the biggest worry you have in your life is complementary waste disposal, then I wash my hands of you (but only if the soap colour matches the bathroom tiles).

Much like Posh Spice's $175k bag, it seems slightly vulgar. And a tad pathetic, much like our neighbour down the road who never fails to run out and get her garbage bins in the minute the trucks have rolled past. It's possibly sad that I know that she does, but they usually come by when I'm leaving the house. Actually I bet she adores colour-matched bin bags. I quite delight in leaving our bins out all day (oh the horror!) figuring it's a) a man's job to get them in, and put them out, hooray for sexism; and b) not a job worth mucking up my manicure for. Not that I have one, but just in case I did. The servants can do it, dahling!

Similarly, in this month's Madison there's a lovely lifestyle spread on a gorgeous family home in Sydney, but after earlier features on crime and disaster, it seems a bit odd to note on one picture "Mrs. X reclines on her leather pouf, her dress complementing the antique vase on the sideboard" (not quite those words, but it was "dress matches furniture"). I know I dare not enter my living room unless my shoes match the carpet, and heaven forbid entering the kitchen in anything but perfectly toned silver! Though I could always use those garbage bags and make a stainless steel-esque frock in case of such an unmitigated fashion disaster.....