We’ve just launched our new Vanderohe Gua Sha tools — beautifully hand-carved to encourage ritual, release and reconnection with your skin. Gua sha is an ancient practice that helps stimulate circulation, ease muscle tension and bring natural radiance to the complexion.

To get started, apply a few drops of your favourite Vanderohe oil, then use gentle, upward strokes from the centre of the face outwards, taking slow, mindful breaths as you go.

Just as trees open their pores with birdsong’s vibration, we can help our bodies to "breathe", or "flow", more efficiently by creating our own body-tapping vibrations. Body tapping is a simple way to stir our six diaphragms (from the crown of the head, through the tongue, thoracic outlet, respiratory diaphragm, pelvic floor and soles of the feet) into harmony. Cup your hands and gently pat down your legs, across your belly and hips, up your arms, across your chest and finally on your head. It creates a piston-like rhythm that carries energy through the whole body. This percussive pulse nudges the lymphatic system into flow, softens tension and reminds us that, like the trees, we are built to breathe with the vibrations of the world around us. If you're unsure how to start, Mike Chang helps break the technique down into simple steps on his Instagram.

Skincare, when approached as a sensory ritual, can become something really rather special. So much of what we feel is written on our skin, so it's not only about what nourishes your skin on the surface, but how you engage with your senses (and therefore your mind) in the process.

I always include a handwritten note with orders that I send out, and I usually write something along the lines of: "Don't forget to breathe deeply". I always wonder whether the recipient will actually pay heed to it. For me, it matters. I formulate through scent first and then I build the product around that scent, selecting oils that are appropriate for a specific function. So when you apply your Vanderohe oil or serum, pause and inhale deeply before massaging it into your skin, because the scent is the key — it speaks directly to your nervous system, calming or enlivening, depending on what you need. It's amazing how quickly your body allows you to lean into that feeling, letting the ritual expand from the surface of your skin into your whole being, through a simple inhalation.

Proust, the grandmaster of sensory connections, is forever quoted for the way taste recalls memory via his famous madeleine cake, but there's a passage in A la recherche du temps perdu that I've always found slightly more soul-stirring, which is when the narrator is captivated by the scent of hawthorn and, unlike the madeleine that transports him immediately to a world he had otherwise forgotten, the scent of the hawthorn is impenetrable, ungraspable — try as he might to breathe it in and unravel it in his mind, it always appears to be withholding some kind of secret, much like a beautiful piece of music: "comme ces mélodies qu'on rejoue cent fois de suite sans descendre plus avant dans leur secret." 

I love nothing more than receiving messages from people commenting on how the scent of the Face Serum makes them feel. It means that someone has managed to reach through to the very heart of the product and has grasped its full potential (magic).

Even the most skeptical among us tend to notice that sleep feels different when the moon is full. Studies have shown that people fall asleep more slowly and sleep less deeply during the brightest nights. The body responds to light and rhythm, whether or not our minds want to explain it away.

When sleep feels elusive under a bright sky, perhaps the answer isn’t to fight it but to meet it differently. If the moon keeps us awake, maybe it’s less an interruption and more a reminder that we’re not meant to be machines, perfectly programmed for eight solid hours of sleep. We are cyclical, tidal and porous. And perhaps the best way to sleep under a full moon is to stop demanding it be the same as every other night, and instead allow the body to rest in rhythm with the cosmos.

A full moon sleep ritual to try:

• Step outside for two or three minutes before bed and let the moonlight touch your skin.
• Back inside, switch off overhead lights and light a single candle or lamp.
• Sip a calming tea (chamomile or lavender work well).
• Take ten slow breaths, lengthening each exhale.
• As you lie down, imagine the moon itself holding you, until sleep comes.

Walking along the shoreline, stooping, stretching, balancing between rocks: there’s a rhythm to beachcombing that is almost like a moving meditation. We don’t notice how many times we bend, reach or clamber, but at the end of the day our bodies feel that wholesome ache of having moved with purpose. You can apply the same to foraging in the woods. Roaming the fringes of nature makes us supple, not just in muscle but in how we approach the world. It's a great way of taking the discipline out of exercise and treating it as a joyful rummage.

The body is where we often feel the law of opposites most keenly. Rest feels restorative, yet we feel guilty from stepping back from our to-do lists. A long run fills our lungs with vitality, but our muscles are left feeling tender. However, I found a sweet spot last week, where I was able, through cylindrical breathing, to tune into my body’s rhythm and age-old physical patterns (not great ones!) with only an upside. Just a few minutes spent deliberately breathing back-to-front in my belly, rather than up-to-down in my chest, forced my shoulders to drop and my neck to relax without my even thinking about it.

In traditional hammams, cleansing was never just about the body — it's a sacred act of purification. Within those monastic, echoing spaces, as you're gently and thoroughly scrubbed with soap, it's more than just layers of the day (and skin!) that's sloughed away. 

To recreate the process, I’ve been mixing a simple exfoliating blend: mineral-rich salt, our Exfoliating Powder, our Purifying Cleansing Oil, and a Sasawashi cloth to work it into the skin. The salt stimulates circulation and draws out impurities. The powder gently refines and the oil seals in moisture. The cloth turns the whole experience into something tactile, grounding and intentional.

This week is about returning to the most instinctive tool we have for healing, sculpting, and softening the body: our hands.Touch can be corrective as well as comforting. Beneath the skin lies the fascia: a web of connective tissue that wraps around muscles, bones, and organs. When it’s restricted through stress, stillness or injury, it holds tension, distorts posture and can even reshape the way our face or body appears. But the magic? Fascia responds to touch. This week, experiment with your skincare ritual. Don’t rush. Use your fingers and work along the jaw, cheekbones, temples, under the collarbones, or along the thighs and hips if you're working on the body. Follow where it feels tight or tender and feel your body respond.

We've all been told that the body keeps the score in a way that's meant to help us unravel and heal our deep internal "marks", but on a surface level, what if it's actually something we should want to hold onto? I'm sure I'm not the only one who picks apart their smallest flaws, but what are freckles, stretch marks, wrinkles, scars if not fragments of time, etched into our skin? I had a mole removed from my neck last year and I feel a bit sad now when I see the scar in its place, especially when I notice it in old photographs. It would be nice if we were able to cherish our "flaws" a bit more. I hope this nudges you (as I will force it to nudge me!) to appreciate the traces of your own special score.

Vetiver is known as the oil of tranquility: it has a deep, earthy and grounding scent and it's been used for centuries to steady the nervous system and support deep, restful sleep. I keep our vetiver-based Perfume Oil beside my bed and I make an effort to remember to roll it onto my wrists before sleep. Some nights, I'll combine it with box breathing for a few minutes: breathe in for four, hold for four, out for four, hold again. It feels like a gentle way to build an automatic "nudge" in my system, so that the scent signal alone reminds my body that it’s time to soften andsurrender.

For the past six months, I’ve been using the Current Body Red Light Helmet daily. Red light works by gently stimulating cellular energy and improving blood flow, helping to nourish and reactivate hair follicles from within. There's no doubt this device looks completely ridiculous, but I quickly came to realise that that in itself also worked in my favour: I could unapologetically shut myself off away from the kids for the full 10 minute treatment time. What's more, the gentle red light encourages me to close my eyes, so I'm forced to totally relax for a brief window in the day, while the red light works its healing magic

I’ve had a Theragun for a while now, but I’d completely forgotten about it until recently, when I drove back from Cornwall for eight hours and could barely feel my bottom by the time I got home. I pulled it out that evening and it was a total game-changer.Since then, I’ve been using it regularly, especially after working out. It’s really helped with tightness around my coccyx (which I've suffered from for years) and I’ve also noticed it’s improved the appearance and tone of my thighs—bonus! The Theragun uses percussive therapy to boost circulation, release deep muscle tension, and support lymphatic drainage — all of which help the body recover, feel better, and as it turns out, look better too.