Product Review: Coffee Scrubs (spoiler alert: they’re shit)

I’m sure by now you’ve heard all about self-care, how important it is to self-care, fill up your cup, recharge your batteries, have some time out, have some bloody me-time. This is of course targeted to us hapless ladies; particularly mothers who have let themselves become grumpy and unkempt. Because judging by instagram and columnists everywhere, self-care invariably involves some variation of manicures, pedicures, tanning, waxing, hair styling (cover those greys, for heaven’s sake!) and generally making yourself less disgusting to the rest of us.

One of the Many Dumb Things they want us to believe is a real thing is the coffee scrub – a mixture of coffee, coconut oil (there is literally no other kind of oil that is acceptable) and some other dumb things that you rub into your skin until you’ve scrubbed away all your shame, and dead skin. Sellers claim that coffee is full of antioxidants (which we all know are a made-up thing that we tell ourselves to justify our daily dark chocolate and red wine), reduces cellulite (HA!), and will make you skin softer, more rejuvenated (??) and firmer (vomit).

You’ll know from previous posts that I am a fair and unbiased person who is open to trying new things, so I googled DIY+coffee+scrub+pleasehelpmeimdyinginside, and found myself mixing up a batch of ingredients that actually belonged in a compost bin. While there aren’t any official instructions for optimal use, I knew from hashtags that the first steps to a successful coffee scrub include being pretty, tying your hair in a top bun and wrapping a tiny towel around your tiny body. Able to do only one of those things, I rubbed that brown scrub over the vast expanse of my body.

You know how when you go to the beach, you are stuck with sand on and around your person for the next 12-13 months? Well, that feeling is a lot like what the coffee scrub feels like, except you also smell like the almost-finished cup of coffee that someone leaves on your desk on Friday but you only find on Monday as it starts to grow mould around the edges, and then suddenly you have to decide whether you can just sneak it into the dishwasher as is.

It is then suggested that you allow yourself to marinate for 30 minutes for full effect, but no real advice provided on what on earth to do half an hour while you’re naked and oily. One option is to stare at yourself in a full length mirror and sob loudly as you contemplate your pathetic existence and many failures, and think maybe your Mum was right after all. Not me, obviously, but some else might do that.


Now imagine how elegant and rejuvenated you’re going to feel trying to get into the bath while you’re oiled up like a greek god, all that essential coconut saturated fat removing any friction that may have existed between you and the hard enamel bathtub, until your flailing about like a fish taking its last breaths. Doesn’t your skin just feel so much firmer? And I mean, what cellulite, right? Once sufficiently rinsed and bruised relaxed, you can now gently dry off with your fluffiest towel, enjoy a hot cup of raw cacao infused cashew milk, and read a book. NOT. Your bath now looks like you’ve tried to dispose of a body Breaking Bad style, and you’re actually going to spend the next 40 minutes elbow deep in Bam and bleach trying to get the fucker clean #metime #selfcare #lieslieslies

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