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I tend to prefer oils to lotions, but this creamy & dreamy new Wild Rose Pampering Body Lotion from Weleda may make a convert of me. En route to the San Juan Islands from Seattle, we stopped at the Skagit Valley Co-Op (recommended for lunch as well as for any island-snacking stock-up needs) where I picked up a little foil sample packet of this moussey wonder. I loved it so much that our first stop back on the mainland was the co-op, where I made a beeline right for the Weleda display, anxious to slather more of this cream on my dry winter self. (It is challenging to describe how delighted I am whenever I use this product without devolving into a crazed advertorial territory.)
The bottle's not messing around with this "pampering" promise, and the lotion forms a silky, protective barrier on your skin immediately after you smooth it on. And, oh, the fragrance! It's glossy and chewy with just a smidge of powdery softness, appropriate since your skin will be so soft also. The rose is thorny, buttery, garden fresh, and paired with some greener plants that make the bouquet bright and clean but not soapy, refreshing but still comforting, and long-lasting in both function and fragrance (but the latter is subtle enough to not compete too much with your perfume). It leaves skin absurdly soft even through the especially vigorous hand-washings flu season inspires.
Related encouragement: Fear not rose! Many Americans seem unnecessarily wary of rose, and I get the sense that the aversion was formed at an early age, against dusty little guest soaps still in their faded tissue-paper wrappers. Try again! Let rose-gurus Katie Puckrik ("Wearing [Un Rose] makes me feel like a baby bee crawling around in the most enormous, lascivious, skyscraper rose to ever bloom.") and Elisa Gabbert ("Over time [Rossy de Palma] gets slightly sweeter, but continues to smell gleamy and green and squeaky clean without resorting to soapy or laundry musk notes, and the crispness keeps it unisex.") nudge you along, and open your nose to rose paired with incense, leather, musk, and wood. By any of its names, and not always sweet.