Skip to main content

Spritzing Evian Facial Spray

A lotion advocate to the core, I've always been curious about Evian Facial Spray to see if it actually holds up to its moisturizing claims. While spraying myself in the face with a canister of mineral water may sound nutty to some, it's actually refreshing and surprisingly fun. For the record, spraying other people in the face is also fun. It's water. I'm fully aware of this fact. But seeing as water makes up a significant percentage of the human body, and that on average we don't drink nearly our daily allowance, which means most of us are walking around in a perpetual state of dehydration, why not benefit from something willing to hydrate your skin. 

Even mild dehydration can drain your energy and make you look and feel tired. 

So I'll digress a bit, but it's true that every system in our body depends on water, and that includes our skin. Now, in all fairness, evian Facial Spray isn't going to flush toxins from vital organs or carry nutrients to our cells, but it will refresh, tone, and relieve parched, irritated skin from dry environmental conditions. The leak-proof canister design is ideal for tossing in a purse, the car, gym bag, or even a suitcase. You can literally take it anywhere, and unlike other water sprays, Evian Spray seals at the source so there's no risk for contaminants entering the sprayer. 

I love using it during and after my workouts because it energizes and removes impurities from perspiration. Plus, for wanderlust beach-babes, it also eliminates salty ocean water as well as chlorine and other harmful chemicals found in pool water. The exquisitely fine mist produced by evian® Brumisateur® penetrates and rehydrates the upper layers of the skin with its unique mineral balance that leaves skin looking healthy and feeling refreshed. Five stars for me all the way. 

 "Powered by Brandbacker"

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Writing Wall

 Affronted by a (practically) nonexistent warning sign, the weather-beaten plastic dangling idly from a nearby telephone pole, clearly stated, Private Property . Even though our previous attempt at this location resulted in a prying patrol car… the graffiti mural, a derelict carcass of a once prominent amusement park, was obviously too wicked to pass blindly. Sprinting around with certain schoolgirl giddiness, the ridiculous amount of camerawhoring was starting to feel like some new Olympic sport. But before finally fleeing the scene, we noticed the black and red letters smeared across the far right side of the building that perhaps claimed an excuse to previous visitors. ' The Devil Made Me Do It' . Disturbing to small degrees, it did seem outwardly apropos to our deviant trespassing acquisition… our forbidden spray paint entertainment. (Vintage sequin butterfly shirt, Betsey Johnson tights, F21 skirt & jacket, Bakers fringe boots)

Wild Thing... I think I love you

When a quasi-sporadic jaunt had us regaling any amount of apathy, my lax interpretation of frugality was tested. I was supposed to be Christmas shopping, but the slightest notion only manifested a spending floodgate that swung wide-open… breaching all self-discipline. So there I was, attempting a silent negotiation, yes-no-no-yes. And just like that, the holier-than-thou shoe gods had me by Gheppetto ’s strings, and were yet again exultant. In every conceivable ( shoe predicament ) way, it seemed a publicized threat to some bizzarro stylistic-existence, and obviously some things are beyond control. In the silver lining, there’s an upside to this inadvertent gluttony because these powerhouse Maryjane’s--with their patent leather and subtle contrasting edge--will always be there, for all those untamed days ahead. Seriously, there's more to me than just savage kicks... but in the words of Carrie Bradshaw, I suppose one day, "I will literally be the woman who lived ...

Gunmetal Laces

The hillside was far more treacherous than it actually appeared, and even though I didn’t foresee clambering up and down the jagged terrain… my 8-year-old nephew (among others in our brood) got a real kick out of thinking I was some sort of neophyte Pink Power Ranger. Pity I left my blade blaster, metallic armor, and spandex suit at home. Not sure about spandex, but if you and all your friends want to start your own gang of crime fighting superheros, you'll need some matching outfits... something stylish of course.  (RTBU sweater, Topshop skirt and Emma Cook boots)