First, I’ll just start with the word. Oil. Three letters. Easy on the ears. It evokes images of exotic lands and you find yourself falling headlong into a rabbit hole of daydreams… (Scene fades to black and starts a dream sequence)
Travelling back in time to Israel, I am seeing Mary Magdalene washing Jesus’ feet with priceless oil. This in itself is a beautiful image: did she make it herself? What was it made of? What did it smell like? Where can I buy some now? I love that it irked the apostles. Wading through the universe some more, I am in Italy. Gorgeous olive skinned Italians are harvesting the olives from their branches, processing them into the extra virgins, and then bottling them in beautifully labeled glass bottles. The oil drips out of the bottle, gleaming in the sun. It blinds me, I am now looking out at the ocean, the sun reflecting wildly off the surface… I make out an oil barge. From the Middle East. Wait, my daydream has gone wrong. I’m not talking crude oil.
All whimsy aside, there is nothing like a product that evokes your imagination by its name alone. Try this on: Moroccan Oil. A brown old-school glass bottle of oil, packaged in a teal box. Something about its lack of frilly packaging gimmicks grabs my attention. The product just might hold its own ground. I don’t know if it’s actually from the north of Africa, but the movie reels in my head already started turning, and it’s daring me to buy it. Plus M. told me to. So I bought it.
And of course I tried it. Here is what happened. I prepared myself for a date with bf J. This is not a portion controlled bottle, so a little bit more than a little poured out. Unsure what to do, I worked all of it from the ends of my wet hair, basically to the root. It spreads very easily. Grease anxiety grew, but I forged ahead and round brushed and blow-dried. The result was insane. The shine from my hair blinded me. All during dinner, I pet my hair while exclaiming how soft it was, and then demanding that J. must touch it as well. “See! See how soft it is!” “Yes, it’s so soft!” Later, while walking into Hannaford to pick up a dessert, I stopped us in our tracks. “Look up! Look how shiny my hair is in the security camera!” He laughed. Thank the heavens he’s a supporter of my cause because anyone else witnessing me would judge me a total shell.
The smell reminded me of something, like an art studio. Linseed extract is one of the ingredients, and I think it reminds me of the smell of linseed oil, which is used to vary the intensity of pigment in oil paints (or clean the brushes). Aragon oil is another interesting ingredient. It’s a region and former kingdom in NE Spain. Here is what I learned on Wikipedia:
Argan oil is an oil produced from the kernels of the argan tree, endemic to Morocco, that is valued for its nutritive, cosmetic and numerous medicinal properties. The tree, a relict species from the Tertiary age, is extremely well adapted to drought and other environmentally difficult conditions of southwestern Morocco. The species Argania once covered North Africa and is now endangered and under protection of UNESCO. The Argan tree grows wild in semi-desert soil, its deep root system helping to protect against soil erosion and the northern advance of the Sahara. This biosphere reserve, the Arganeraie Biosphere Reserve, covers a vast intramontane plain of more than 2,560,000 hectares, bordered by the High Atlas and Anti-Atlas Mountains and open to the Atlantic in the west. Argan oil remains one of the rarest oils in the world due the small and very specific growing area.
See? This product fits my fantasies of place and imagery perfectly! If you live in the Saratoga Area, you can get it at the new beauty supply store in Wilton mall. I recommend getting the 1.7 fl oz to start with. Use sparingly!