You can read about the truly inspirational day I had at Mumsnet Blogfest in a separate post (yet to be published). The goody bags were so good they’ve earned themselves their own post. Read on…
It was a day I didn’t want to start because every minute that passed was taking us closer to the finish and it was really the end I wanted to avoid. But end it must and knowing that there was a goody bag for everyone attending Blogfest made the parting that bit sweeter.
Already, I wasn’t going home empty-handed. I’d picked up a nifty first aid kit for kids from The Portland Hospital stand. I’d pocketed an oven mitt stamped with cautionary advice from Savoo – ‘Don’t get burnt paying full price’. And I had a copy of The Times to pore over on my train journey home. But I knew there was more to come.
The goody bags had been alluded to a couple of times during the day. I’d clocked the list of top-notch sponsors at the event so set my expectations high. The modest looking eco-friendly cotton sacks sat on the bar near the cloakroom and were bulging at the seams. I flung mine over my shoulder as I took my leave from Altitude 360. My head was buzzing with ideas, twitter soundbites and blog posts. I’d wait until the train to open my bag. I could feel the sharp corner of a book prod in to my side and when I moved I caught the scent of pears.
As I walked over Vauxhall bridge I spotted another woman with a Blogfest bag swinging by her side. I hastened my pace and at the traffic lights we chatted about Blogfest because we could as fellow goodie-bag bearers.
Once I boarded my train, I found myself the perfect seat in a fairly sparse carriage. The aroma from my Blogfest bag had intensified. Intoxicated and heady, I’d been patient for long enough! And my, what a spectacle awaited me. The lid from Lush’s snow fairy shower gel had somehow dislodged and the pink liquid coated my goodies. The candy floss and pear infused liquid promises to transport you back to childhood. And it did as I felt like my eight-year old daughter who regularly has these sticky moments. How distressing and where to start? All these wonderful gifts in jeopardy.
Fast action was required. For my salvage op I had a packet of pocket tissues and a bottle of water. What a folly. The water and gel combined to make a suds and bubble fiasco as the smell filled the carriage and transported the few fellow passengers back to their childhoods too. Nice for them.
A bemused observer on his Saturday night our whipped the napkin from his burger and offered it to me. I didn’t look up as I was handed a plastic bag. All assistance was gratefully accepted and promptly put to use. The Bonne Maman seasonal cookbook came off the best, not a drop fell its way. Though snow fairy is infused in its pages. Now a childhood transporter as well as a cookbook. The Bloggess memoir will have the same effect but that’s no bad thing especially in a memoir.
The Times had pre-empted my fiasco with a plastic wrapper on its note pad and Parker pen. Boden had taken similar precautions. At any rate their present being an umbrella and therefore shower proof, I wouldn’t have to worry. I did pause however to admire the clever print on its fabric. London scene, Big Ben, House of Parliament. Beefeaters. Definitely a pick-up for a rainy day. I worked hard to save the stretch mark fader – though having neither welts nor plans to extend my family I’d no need for it. But I know someone who does. San Tropez moisturiser was easily mopped down and Nails inc lives on to polish my nails. Sanctuary spa samples will get used too.
Sadly, the Green and Black chocolates didn’t make it. But they were the only real casualties. I couldn’t be sure if Divine’s white chocolate with strawberries was meant to have a pear and popcorn kick. Tasted nice though.
I was glad of the first aid kit. I used all four wash swabs to clean myself up. It had taken the entire journey to restore my goody bag stash. Home again, I walked down my street as the night air hit my haul sealing the items with the candy scent I now associate with childhood ….and Blogfest.