Total Pageviews

Monday, 22 April 2013

RENOKIN tried and tested

I've edited and written about beauty products for the past ten years, yet I still get a thrill out of finding a new cult product. There are so many on the market but it takes something pretty special for me to add to my wish list. I've tried and tested everything from swiss chocolate facials, frozen yogurt hair masks to lip enhancing glosses and of course, the ubiquitously written about, creme de la mer.

I have most recently been asked to test the Hair strengthening shampoo and conditioner by RENOKIN aimed to give fuller and more lustrous hair. The products are marketed at people who may have experienced hair loss or have very fine hair that doesn't grow easily, though the product also claims to improve, even normal healthy hair, aiming to thicken, strengthen and fast-track the growth rate.

So, down to the science, three main active ingredients found in RENOKIN start with CG-Keramin-2 which prevents damage to hair cells caused by stress, UV exposure and other environmental factors, as well as providing nutrition to the scalp and hair root for a healthier and thicker hair shaft. The product also contains CG-Wint which stimulates new hair placode formation and generates new hair folicles. CG-Nokkin is the final active ingredient which inhibits hair loss. The ingredients work in synergy and are designed to fortify the hair and scalp condition, creating a healthy environment for hair restoration.

I am lucky enough to have been blessed with healthy hair with a good growth rate, however my hair is long and I do tend to malt with lots of hair coming out in my brush and in the shower so I was very keen to put it to the test. Oh to have a bathroom free of scattered hair and a clear hairbrush!

So over the next thirty days I am hoping to see less hair coming out in my brush as well as less hair down the plug hole. If the growth rate speeds up and my hair appears more lustrous then it will be a bonus. As I'm still growing my hair it would also be great to boost the volume slighty in order to get more body - my hair is straight so this if one thing it tends to lack.

Day one of using RENOKIN and I like the consistency, it lathers well and although the smell isn't what I would call 'heavenly', it is pleasant and not too perfumed. The directions state to lather for a full fifteen seconds prior to leaving on the scalp for a further 30 seconds. I experience a very slight tingling sensation after lathering, not disimilar to that of using a mint-infused shampoo.

The conditioner is recommended for use only on the ends and lengths of the hair and should be left in for around a similar time. My hair combed through well after washing though the texture did feel a little different to normal.

When blow drying with my brush I made a quick analysis of the amount of hair surfacing. At the moment it's pretty normal but I shall be keeping a close eye on this over the coming weeks. After my regular blow dry my hair looks shiny and healthy, though perhaps not quite as full bodied as normal, perhaps down to a change of product but I have high hopes for RENOKIN so watch this space..

One week into testing RENOKIN and I am feeling a little indifferent towards the product. I'm not overly keen on the tingling sensation felt whilst massaging into my scalp and I'm finding that although my hair feels smooth, it perhaps isn't as lustrous as with my normal shampoo & conditioner. Also I expected to see a little more volume. However, it is early days and it's a well known fact that after changing a shampoo it can take time for the hair to adapt.

On the plus side, I didn't notice as much hair shedding this week and my brush seems to be clearer so I will endeavour to lather, leave for thirty seconds, apply conditioner to the ends and lengths and wait for, what I am hoping, will be some rather fabulous results.

After two weeks of testing RENOKIN and I am noticing a distinct difference in my hair. Firstly there is a difference in the the texture and secondly the overall condition. My lockes most definitely feel more voluminous and the protective hair cuticles seem to be smoothed down, giving a very sleek look. It also appears to be a lot more tangle-free which is great as I don't have to brush it so often.

I've been studying my hairbrush with careful precision and I have to say, even after just two weeks of using the product, there is a further decrease in the amount of hair that I'm shedding. The shower is also notably clearer of stray hairs, which in turn, is making my life a lot easier.

The only thing I'm not 100% about is my colour seems to have lightened slightly but that could be due to the fact that we have finally been blessed with some sunshine. I'm looking forward to studying the results further but so far, so good. RENOKIN I am impressed.

Three weeks after I began using RENOKIN and my hair finally seems to be adapting to the ingredients. It is looking super-sleek, shiny and bouncy. I've been feeling rather flattered since been stopped by people wanting to know what shampoo I am using and over the last week received more compliments regarding my hair than I can remember. However, the question still on my mind is, has there been an increase in the volume of my hair and perhaps more importantly still, a decrease in hair loss. I have one more week of testing RENOKIN so here's hoping the answer to both will be a resounding yes.

Four weeks after I begun using RENOKIN and I have now come to the end of testing both the shampoo and conditioner. I am happy to say that I have most definitely noticed an improvement in the overall condition of my hair throughout the thirty day trial. My hair is looking full bodied, lustrous and immensely shiny. Over the last month I have received many compliments, some from total strangers, asking what hair products I am currently using.

I have also experienced a great deal less ‘shedding’ of hair after washing, blow-drying and brushing which is brilliant as this has been one of the ongoing perils of having long hair that is in constant need of being brushed. I would say that the amount of hair to now be found in my hair brush/shower etc has halved at the very least.

So, if asked if I would recommend RENOKIN the answer would have to be a resounding yes to anybody aiming to improve the voluminosity and overall strength of their hair. Also to anyone who has experienced hair loss, has fine hair or sheds a lot of hair after washing, brushing and styling.

Having trialled so many products, I must admit that I was sceptical of the concept of this shampoo and conditioner. However, I’m not sure if I’m ready to go back to my old shampoo and the unclogging of the plug hole just yet.. thank you RENOKIN - it has been a pleasure.


Wednesday, 10 April 2013

Maggie Fashion

Margaret Thatcher and her sartorial choices.

This week saw the death of Margaret Thatcher and although I have never been a habitual conservative follower, as a child of the eighties, I felt the need to write about the woman who managed to somehow marry her outfits with her political views, her clothing alone spoke volumes to thousands through photographic stills.

Maggie was a figure in the fashion world renown for her statement dressing and now the trends she has left behind. She lived to the grand age of 87 and though not necessarily considered a fashion icon, she most definitely left her sartorial mark on a generation. She will be well remembered for her safe yet influential choices that saw her through her leading lady days.

During her reigning years she was famed for her sartorial staples including a string of pearls given to her by her husband Dennis, pussy bow blouses, an Asprey handbag and a seemingly endless supply of fitted skirt suits in every shade of blue from royal to navy.

Her inimitable look has come to define an era. Her Asprey bag, which became synonymous with her conservative but feminine style, sold at Christie's for a rather impressive £25.000

Her daughter Carol famously said that 'she hoped the highest bidder knows that if he is into 'handbagging' he's got a weapon with quite a track record. After all my mother invented the verb 'to handbag'.'

I myself am a fan of the pussy bow, a favourite amongst trendy office-goers alike and a good handbag, along with a stiletto, is always my go-to investment piece. So Maggie Thatcher, I salute you for mastering the dutiful task of fusing fashion with politics.  Here was a woman more powerful than any of the men that surrounded her but she never let go of her femininity. Her clothes were her armour and a weapon. The Iron Lady whose sartorial choices, will remain part of history.

Monday, 7 May 2012

Orange prize for fiction competition entry

Last year my entry for the Orange prize of fiction made it down to the top five out of thousands. This year I am entering again in the quest to win the award for best newcomer. Please share your views by posting your comments below..

The Journey

The swaying of the train made her hands grip around her bag as if it was anchored and could support her. Outside the window, the trees were a blur of greens and it seemed to the woman as if it were the trees not the train which were moving, hurrying away from her, putting green distance between them. She’d started the journey with clearly defined logical reasons for it, which she’d neatly stacked up like a wall. But the rocking of the train, the judder as it had speeded up, had toppled them and the truth was now visible, poking out and ugly to her. Outside the window the moving haze of green trees was replaced by the still hard edges of a grey platform. She’d arrived. 

She stepped onto the platform and made her way across the bridge, weaving in and out of the crowds, unknown faces seemingly strange in their obscurity. Nothing here was familiar - life as she had once known it, seemed a million miles away. She walked on through the barrier, out of the exit tunnel and onto the paved street. With its hard-edged corners and voluminous concrete tower blocks lining the pavements, it seemed incongruous to the willow tree lined park opposite. She walked on, her mind blurring her thoughts into a montage. The reasons, toppled by the journey, once again whirred in her mind, like a humming bird. Surely it is in human nature to always have hope? But to take a risk such as this? She was unsure.  

Rounding the small green, she saw the signpost for Bathgate Street, it must be the one. She paused, took a deep breath before pressing on, determined. Answers would await her and now that the journey was almost over, they couldn't arrive soon enough. Still, thoughts of the past churned over in her mind; The day she received the letter from Joe was a day she could never have imagined. Since unfolding the pages, she had become like a train derailed, no control over her mind, the words she had read perplexed her every second of existence. She could no longer think with clarity, but only run, like the train, without a planned route or destination, but this was her destination wasn’t it? Today was the 12th of April and the time was nearing 7pm, the time he had told her to arrive or he would be gone - this time for good. Mary’s steps slowed as she looked up at the dark and brooding buildings looming above her, No 8 - she had arrived. She stood looking up at the house, it seemed uninviting, its presence imposing. Her breath was cold, it caught momentarily in a spiders web that had woven its way around the iron railings at the doors entrance. She shivered, wondering if she was being watched. Was he there? Just the other side of the stone wall? Those eyes she would never forget - they seemed to turn green and then grey before returning to a deep blue, like a fresh water pool she could dive into, swimming and circling the iris. She could barely fathom that if she rang the rusty old doorbell, the door would open and he would be standing in front of her. It had been two long years since his disappearance off the coast of Jura where he had been staying with Rob, his trusted friend. A fishing boat, found off the shore of the island, caught in the current they said. Probably swept away. Not many survive these waters at the point where the two currents meet. Nobody was ever found. Joe presumed dead. Even if grief were your best friend, you wouldn’t want it around.
Mary bit her lip, remembering the pain she had felt at hearing the news. Her heart shattered, could time really heal? Two years on and still she felt the pain. It swam up from the pit of her stomach to the back of her throat. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes. On opening the letter anger had raged from her entire being. How could he have set this up? Lead her, the woman he claimed to love, to believe he was dead. Swallowed by the merciless waters. He was in danger. He had no choice. He was protecting her. He was protecting himself, he wrote. Not an hour had passed where he didn’t think of her and he would come back for her.  He would be in Glasgow for two weeks, he would wait, give her time to think things through. He had two weeks only then he had to be gone. He wanted her to leave with him. He still loved her. He always had. He would explain - tell her why he had to do what he did but Mary mustn’t tell anyone about this..It would be too dangerous.

She stood still, tilting her head up towards the window ledge, looking for movement, for life within the walls. Joe’s life. A life she thought had left her. She had always thought the situation odd. Nothing added up. Why would he up and leave for Rob’s remote home in Scotland so suddenly? Why had he never told her about his apartment being trashed or the papers he had supposedly found? She recalled the way the police had interrogated her and sniffed around the island like blood hounds. And then there were the threatening phone calls she’d received after his disappearance. None of it made sense. Who would hurt him? This was a question that Mary had asked herself time and time again. Joe was a good man, genuine, creative, hard working - a boat builder - he built classic wooden boats. Objects of beauty.

Now he was close by, she imagined his face and how it may have changed over time. Mary paused to move a stray strand of hair beneath her hat and looked up at the battered window panes. Some of the rendering to the side of the slated window ledge was coming away. She noticed violas were springing into life in one of the boxes she had assumed empty - how long, she mused, had they gone untended. A swallow landed on the edge of the box, it lingered, looking for life within the tangled greens of the delicate leaves. Did it sense her anxiety? After noticing Mary stood at the door way, it startled, circling the chimney in its flight. Mary wished she too could fly from this scene but her heart was willing her to stay. The bell seemed to glare down at her, taunting her almost. She reached up, pausing briefly, before pressing it. Its loud echo billowing throughout the building. How many seconds or minutes passed she could not say. Footsteps approached - walking across a wooden floor perhaps? The heavy door swung open. In this ethereal moment where time meant nothing yet everything, she raised her head to look into his eyes..but the the man standing in front of her wasn’t Joe - it was someone else.. far removed from Mary’s world.


Sunday, 22 January 2012

Surviving January

Having survived the festive season, which as a fashionista, is a time to relish in a sartorial dream of garments dripped in sequins and sparkle, it is now time to survive January - an altogether much larger deal. Survival of this month is a hard task and a month every fashionista loathes - January sales consisting of tired looking clothes dominating the rails, SS collections a million miles away and even if they were just around the corner your far too skint to even think about a shopathon. Having been deprived of sleep from all the late nights, bloated from over-indulging and in a constant state of hangover, January is not a month where you are looking or feeling your best. To put it bluntly you are washed out, sluggish, suffering from dark circles and dare I say it even the odd spot. You are having champagne withdrawal, your J brand skinny jeans are rather on the tight side and yes, your butt definitely isn’t looking so pert. Generally the feeling is 'burnt out'. And then there are resolutions, where you are meant to start the new year somehow bettering yourself with ‘ I will exercise three times a week’ and ‘I will be more organised, a better friend, on time, tidier, drink less, cook more, shop less, save money, donate to charity blah, blah, blah’. Crikey, it’s no wonder January is the most depressing month of the year! So, to tackle the January blues I  have to decided to begin 2012 a little differently, with less pressure on myself and a whole different outlook. If you want to call them new years resolutions then so be it but I strongly recommend that you follow the mantra below if you want to survive the month ahead and come out the other side feeling bright eyed and fabulous..

- Drink cocktails! Even if it’s just one at happy hour you will feel brighter.

- Relax in the bathtub as often as possible.

- Lose yourself in a good book for hours on end.

- Read Vogue & Pop - the editorial pages splashed with colour and new collections will transport you to a brighter place.

- Get a puppy! January is a great time to bring a four legged, waggy tailed friend into your life. The joy is endless and the walking will keep you fit without knowing it.

- Do lunch with friends and don’t pass on a glass of bubbly.

- Have a girly night in - a giggle over a cheesy film and a face pack is magic at this time of year.
- Wear heels more - they transport you to another place!

- Invest in some new music and dance, dance, dance.

- Fall in  love with something new, however ridiculous it may be..

- Watch movies in your Pj’s even if it’s a Sunday afternoon.

- Sleep for as long as you feel necessary!


- Put pressure on yourself to exercise too much.

- Cut out all the things you love.

- Work too hard.

- Take up a new hobby just because you feel you should.

- Analise your life too much.

- Do anything you don’t want to do.

- Hoover and tidy unnecessarily.

- Give up chocolate.

- Wear tracksuit bottoms all the time.

- Hibernate until the February..

Monday, 26 December 2011

What bath-time means to me.

Bath time tales in 150 words

There is no other place I feel I can totally unwind and lose myself in my thoughts as I can whilst sinking into the bathtub. Bath time to me is a place of escapism, a place to lie back and dream whilst cocooned in the warmth of the water and the  heady scent of rose and geranium oils. In the bathtub time stands still, my senses are revitalised and my body relaxes. As the day ebbs away I come back, creativity is found and a new ideas are born in the moment. I can stare at the paint peeling off the ceiling, read a novel, doze to the flicker of a candle or get lost in my thoughts, for when I’m in the bathtub, time is my own and the world outside is a merely a place where I have existed and will return to only when the water runs cold.

My top five bath indulgences.

1 - Beautannia bath and shower gel in Brideshead bottles the floral essence of quintessential England which I love. Fresh, feminine purity whispers timeless elegance as wintersweet, wild bluebell and honeysuckle softly lace with plum, peach and violet leaves - a true revelry of nature's finest bouquet.

2 - Morrocan Rose Otto bath oil by Ren. This scent is heavenly and intoxicating. The oil leaves your skin incredibly soft and nouished so you don't need to reach for the body moisturiser afterwards. A perfect time saver when you have spent too long lazing in the bath!

3 - Fig and Coco natural olive oil soaps form the amazing two storey barn conversion in Ross-on-Wye - Baileys. The scents are heavenly and the infusion of olive oil is also great for your skin..far more than just a bar of soap!

4 - Jo Malone Red Roses/Wild Figs & Cassis bath oils. Whilst the former is like bathing in rose petals - seven types of rose petal blooms in the water leaving the sensuality of honeycomb, clove and musk lingering on the skin. The latter transports you to the warmth of the Mediterranean as you relax in the embracing scent of sun-warmed wild figs blended with cassis, cyclamen, pine and cedar. I've used these oils for years. They are pure heaven.

5 - Diptique candles - I use Philosykos. For the ultimate bath-time experience, bathe by candle light and let the freshness of fig leaves, green fruit, milky sap and the bark envelope you whilst you while away the hours.

Friday, 16 December 2011

Beauty Bumpkin

So this post is aimed at beauty junkies like myself who are always looking for a cult product that in some way will change our lives for the better. The type of beauty buy that after just one use you know that you cannot live without. Having edited beauty pages, I have tried and tested hundreds of products and I'd like to share some of my favourites..but shhh don't tell everyone!
Here are my top ten products that save me daily.. 

1 - Elizabeth Arden Eight Hour Cream. I have used this for years and am never without it in my bag. Every photo shoot I have been on this product has been in the beauty kit! It makes for the best lip balm, giving long lasting gloss whilst nourishing your lips at the same time. It's also multi- purpose and can be used as a moisturiser for chapped dry skin, a gloss to tame unruly  brows and a skin healer for minor cuts and burns.

2 - Talika 'Liposils'. Eyelash conditioning gel. The best product out there for healthy and long eyelashes. Fantastic for days when mascara is too much.

3 - Nars 'Laguna' bronzer. The most natural looking bronzer on the market, it gives me an instant glow so I can face the world even after next to no sleep with a hangover.

4 - Lancome Juicy Tube in Marshmallow. The best lip gloss known. Perfect consistency and sheer pink colour. This product is rare.

5 - Keils Creme de Corps body lotion. This oh-so-buttery lotion keeps my skin soft all year round. A little goes a long way and it has the most perfect non greasy texture. 

6 - Blinc mascara. You can swim, cry and get caught in the rain wearing this and it will stay put yet all you need to take it off is a cleansing cloth & warm's a product that speaks for itself.

7 - Eve Lom cleanser. Good skin starts with cleansing and this product used with a muslin cloth gives for the most satisfying and deepest cleanse before bed, removing make-up and exfoliating the skin at the same time.

8 - Eve Lom rescue mask. A real pick me up for tired, stressed skin that needs a glow. Great to use before a party!

9 - Traite shampoo. Sulphate free, it is gentle &  nourishing leaving hairr uber glossy.

10 - Ren 'Rose Otto' Bath oil. This heavenly oil not only smells divine but leaves your skin feeling like silk.

11 - Okay I knew I couldn't keep it to ten! Last one..Origins 'No Puffery' eye mask. A life saver for tired, puffy eyes. I couldn't face the day without it. 

What I'll always do - drink tons of water and exercise daily.

What I'll never do - go to bed without removing make-up, ewww!

True beauty is found within.. smile!

Monday, 28 November 2011

Stilettos V pumpkin soup

So since writing my first blog there have been not one, but two occasions to don my stilettos. My initial reaction - hooray! My BFF's birthday party and my BBF's wedding respectively and two very different occasions indeed.
I've always loved a full social diary but each invite came with it's own sartorial dilemma. Firstly my best friend Rosie's birthday. Now for this occassion there had been talk of cocktail bars, posh nosh restaurants, acoustic sets, and dancing til dawn but when it came down to the finalities of the plans it turned out that we would be having a curry at Rosie’s, cooked by her dad, followed by a jaunt to the local pub which is in no uncertain terms a little bit of a dive. To make matters even worse, I am Rosie's only non-student friend. She, having just graduated in graphics & illustration from her third university course, at the grand age of 26, is a bonified clothes horse of thrown together, just got out of bed but ready to rock the party all night student-esque style. So there I am, stood in front of my wardrobe, clothes piled up around me, wondering which outfit, if any, is suitable for this occasion. I try on numerous dresses, jeans, tops and accessories. I add belts, then take them off again. I want desperately to wear my blue suede stilettos but have the erksome worry that I will be the only one in heels and look over dressed. Approximately one hour later I am leaving Daisy Cottage, late, wearing the blue suede stilettos with the silver heels that I can barely walk in, but whatever they look hot, right? So I am wearing my Reiss Tiana dress, a wardrobe staple, my skinny snake skin belt which contrasts with the print and  have my Mulberry clutch under one arm, well what else? I also have a ‘No Guts No Glory’ bag full of gifts for the my lovely friend, containing amongst other delights the iconic Essie nail polish in ‘Turquoise and Caicos.
On arrival I greet both Rosie’s ma and pa and head down to the basement where the party is in full swing. A canapay has been put up so everyone is grouped around in the garden just off the basement. Someone has an acoustic guitar and there are candles placed around the rockery. A fragrant smell of curry and lots of chatter, the atmosphere is cute and Rosie’s other chums are nice as pie, greeting me with hugs and kisses all round. Still, amid this lovely atmosphere something is bothering me - yep, I am most definitely the only girl in this house wearing stilettos and, eek, another sartorial thunder bolt, a dress! To be honest this didn’t come as a surprise at all..I mean I could have worn skinny jeans and a printed t shirt to fit in but hey, the times a girl gets to dress up are limited so what the hell. Another eeksome moment arrives when it is established that we will, gasp, walk to the pub! Help! I can barley stand let alone walk! Sure enough this was salvaged when Rosie’s brother Ed hoists me up and carries me pretty much the whole way, phew. So the night gos on and we head from one not so great venue to a rather more tragic one. A band is playing in the pub and we must dance so the stilettos come off and I hold them like most prized posescions in my hands, whilst bopping away to some wannabe rock band. The blue suede ones received more compliments in the air than they ever did on my feet, I wonder if we should always take off our shoes and hold them in the air, after all they are objects of beauty and deserve every appreciation going. So a fun night was had despite the dilemmas and I leave the pub with about as much sartorial elegance as the lead singer of the band in his bretton striped t shirt. I wake up the next day with a throbbing headache but absolutely no aching calves due to being bare foot most of the evening. Always a silver lining! Most of all I had a lot of fun, stilettos on my feet or not.

My BBF Marcos’ wedding is just around the corner and despite it being held in a bell tent in the middle of Dartmoor with an awful lot of twitchers attending, I know this will be an occasion to dress up. This time the sartorial perplexity is one of a different nature altogether. I need an outfit that will look chic and pretty but not too sexy as I am running very high risk of eek, dare I say it upstaging the bride! Now this is a difficult one as I always love an outfit to be a show stopper but on this occasion I know I need to pair it down and take a back seat. It is not my show and I may need to remind myself every so often! So I try on dress after dress with an array of accessories but none seem quite right, mainly they are too short or way to fashion forward. A week before the wedding and I am still without an outfit. I call upon my trusty friend Rach who has been to more weddings and royal ascot ladies days than the entire royal bunch put together!  We are just about the same size and have similar taste so I’m pretty sure she will have a dress to suit for the occasion. A couple of hours later I emerge from her house with a clothes carrier - contained within is the most perfect dress for a wedding. Classy, chic and pretty, not too short, not showing so much as a glimpse of cleavage! It’s a winner for sure and hopefully one that will do the job for the evening. The wedding, though far from a fashionista’s delight, is a jolly affair. I note I am the only girl to keep her stilettos on for the entire evening and find myself dancing to the likes of Kings of Leon and The Rolling Stones in my purple heeled beauties. The night ends with our taxi having to pull over on the A38 for us to vomit in the grass verge - damn those pasties they brought out at 11 o clock. Never a good idea to eat a pasty after a bucket load of bubbly then bounce around with an air guitar, eek! Luckily Rach’s dress remains vomit free and we all go home feeling much better for the stop off half way. My mind boggles as to why a local Devonshire cabbie struggled with the route, adding an extra half an hour onto our already arduous trip across horrific winding moorland tracks.

A couple of weeks later I am walking Partridge around the beautiful estate of Powderham Castle. I’m gazing in awe at the deer with their exquisite antlers and the joyous abundance of the lambs skipping through the fields. Autumn is most definitely upon us and I relish in being outdoors at this time of year. I love everything about Autumn, to me it has all the refinery a season can offer;  Autumn leaves of colours so rare you want to preserve them, crunching under foot as we climb to the highest point to get a glimpse of a sunset made of the boldest hues. Chestnuts, gourds, conkers, toasty nights by an open fire eating home-made pumpkin soup and star gazing on a clear night. These are all things that make me stop and ponder the nature of time and the essence of beauty. In these moments in my wellies and bobble hat thinking about making that perfect soup I am a million miles removed from my stilettos and the ability to keep them on my feet all night. In the Autumn a new peace of mind is found and I’m happy to be here in the moment, appreciating all that is beautiful in the glorious countryside. After our walk I stop by at the local farm shop and buy a couple of pumpkins, one to cut out for halloween and the other to make soup for supper. I pop them down on the work surface ready to prepare and run upstairs to change. Smiling to myself I kick my stillettos under the bed, for now there is soup to be made!