I guess I'm not that metrosexual. My bathroom cabinet is hardly overflowing with products. I only really have my stuff for shaving. I can't honestly say I moisturise, though I probably should.
I am a metrosexual and into male grooming - I moisturise, I exfoliate.
Moisturise, moisturise, moisturise... is the motto of people who are in the business of selling moisturisers. Your body is already 60% water. If that's not moist enough for you, sit in a puddle.
Always exfoliate and moisturise before you tan. Don't just moisturise the dry bits - you know your elbows and your knees - moisturise everywhere.
I really like the ritual of shaving. I like getting the perfect brush and finding the right sandalwood soap. The act of shaving, though, is not fun. I like beards and the ease of them.
I don't remember my parents together, ever: my father was much older, and really only interested in collecting magazines and bathroom suites; we were the only family in the area to have a bathroom suite on the lawn.
Devotion is love overflowing. Even when there is nobody, it is overflowing - to things, to tables, to chairs, to walls. It is just overflowing, it is not a question of to whom.
I chair cabinet, we have robust debates during cabinet meetings and we actually come to decisions as a consensus. It's very much people are very passionate about different views and everything, but that's what a cabinet should be like.
In really fancy restaurants they never point to the bathroom, they just gesture toward the bathroom or they'll lead you to the bathroom. The fancier the restaurant, the less pointing there is.
I always moisturise in the morning, put my make-up on, and at the end of the day I take it off with coconut oil, wash my face, moisturise, and so often, that's it.
And then you've got President Clinton who made the case as only he can. After he spoke, somebody sent out a tweet- they said, you should appoint him secretary of explaining stuff. I like that- secretary of explaining stuff. Although, I have to admit, it didn't really say stuff. I cleaned that up a little bit.
So what should we say when children complete a task—say, math problems—quickly and perfectly? Should we deny them the praise they have earned? Yes. When this happens, I say, “Whoops. I guess that was too easy. I apologize for wasting your time. Let’s do something you can really learn from!
I remember seeing my father shaving my mother's head in the bathroom after her chemo treatments; It was so traumatizing.
I guess the thing I would say most fervently is that your original impulse to write something is an impulse you should trust, and that if it doesn't work on the first draft, which it hardly ever does, the commitment to revising ought to be something you embrace really early. And to revise and revise and revise.
It's amazing what you can do in your bathroom! I would do vocals and stuff on my computer that would need to be sent to London or New York for things to be added on, and I was thinking they always say you sound good in the bathroom - but then I'd kick the bin, or someone in the next room would flush the chain or something and I'd be like 'oh no!'
When you say nasty things about people, you should never say the true ones, because you can't really fully and honestly take those back.
I think that the point of being an architect is to help raise the experience of everyday living, even a little. Putting a window where people would really like one. Making sure a shaving mirror in a hotel bathroom is at the right angle. Making bureaucratic buildings that are somehow cheerful.