Sauna hats

Last time when I was having my hair done at the wonderful Rossano Ferretti hair spa, it was  a day before my holiday in Finland. Towards the end, when my hairdresser Clare was putting the straightening treatment on, she reminded me that I should leave my hair unwashed for 3 or 4 days to make sure the treatment works properly.

I looked at her in horror, 'But I'm going to have a sauna tomorrow, and the day after!' I gasped.

'You can't, it'll go frizzy, and then all of this is in vain.' Clare said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

Now this may seem like a very trivial thing to most of you, BUT.

For one thing, the treatment (which is also called a Brazilian blow dry) isn't cheap. Although I don't have the whole procedure, but just a conditioning product which is cheaper and has less of an effect, it's still more money to pay for a hair cut. Secondly, the stuff always makes my eyes water, so I have to sit there with a towel in my eyes (looking like a plonker) and to be honest, the 10 minutes or so Clare takes to spray the stuff on my hair is agony.

Clare looked at me through the mirror, the straightening irons suspended midair.

'I have to have a sauna when I'm in Finland,' I said.

Finns amongst you will understand this statement. To live without a sauna is bad enough; not to have one as soon as you are able, is quite another. (Sauna is like a religion in Finland. There are over 5 million saunas; that's one per head - including infants)

Clare just shook her head so I tried to another explanation, 'If I don't have a sauna my father will be offended.' I didn't say this to Clare, but to me, the lack of a sauna is the most difficult aspect of our new life here in London. In the sticks we were lucky enough to have a sauna cottage with a seating area outside, where, after a sauna, we could gaze over the paddock into the hills in the distance. It wasn't quite like sitting by a lake in Finland, but it came pretty close.

Clare and I came to a solution that I should cover my head with a towel or similar when in the sauna. I immediately knew what this would be, a piece of handy gear which Daughter convinced me to get from Marks and Spencer a few months ago.

It's a piece of towelling which wraps around your wet locks and helps to dry the hair. Both Daughter and I have very thick hair, so it can sometimes take a full 12 hours to dry (just talk to Clare - she'll tell you what a pain my hair is to blow-dry). This turban makes the process much quicker. (They are now unfortunately out of stock - let's hope more will be coming into the shop soon)


But, guess what, I bloody well forgot to take it with me, so I ended up wearing something called a sauna hat…the things I do for beauty….

With my big sister causing some hilarity with our families...

The weird thing was, that this 'sauna hat' really worked! On reflection, this model below, called Pohjan Akka (loosely translated as 'The Northern Hag') might have suited us better.

Pohjan Akka sauna hat by Saunalahja

The sauna hats, or Saunahattu are available from here or here, should you ever be in need of one. I may just surprise the sauna-loving Englishman with this combo of hat and slippers. What do you think?

Picture by Saunahattu Leeni 

Fighting the bulge

I’ve never been fat. Nor have I ever been thin. Except when very, very much in love. I’m tall, from good old Nordic blonde, blue-eyed stock. But as the years advance, I’m no longer able hide the increasing bulges behind the jeans-wearing faux athletic appearance.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always kept myself fit. I was an early adopter of jogging, aerobics, then step aerobics. I try to do some kind of exercise twice a week and I couldn’t live without my weekly Pilates sessions.

But I love food. My family love food and we all cook. Now son’s at home from university, we prepare veritable feasts every night and sit together around the table, drinking wine as if we were all on holiday every day. This is lovely, of course it is, but it’s not doing my body shape any favours. The jeans are getting tighter and tighter. This is not a good look.

So a couple of weeks ago I decided I’d step up the gym sessions. But instead of losing weight, I’m gaining it. And no, it’s not muscle. It’s because my mind is also playing tricks on me. Due to the increased exercise I eat even more. And I cook even more calorific treats for us all.

Like the blueberry pie above. It’s divine, especially with strong, black coffee. And, as I told myself when I made it and later when devouring it, the blueberries are good for you.

All I hope is that when son leaves us for his brilliant career in London, and daughter starts her gap year in Finland, I will not be able to justify the baking of cinnamon buns, blueberry pie, home made pasta or Dauphinoise potatoes anymore and will lose my appetite as I pine for my grown up brood.

Roll on empty nest.