I've been enjoying filling the sink with ice and cold water, soaking our Shinto towel and using it as a compression cloth for my face. A mini cold plunge. I fold the towel, submerge it in the icy water, then press it gently over my skin for a few moments at a time. It feels incredibly refreshing and instantly perks up my complexion when I'm feeling tired, helping to reduce puffiness and wake up the face.

I’ve been using our Vanderohe Perfume Oil over the last few weeks to create something of a ritual. What I've noticed most is the way it works through repetition. Applied at the same points each day, it becomes a signal; a cue for the body to soften and for the mind to settle. Scent is powerful in that way. It bypasses logic and speaks directly to memory, sensation, and mood. It also smells like a beautiful, lush English garden. 

You'll know by now that I love, trust and believe in CurrentBody products. I've seen them work. I recently bought their Radio Frequency device and it's a dream to use. I used to pay a small fortune to visit Keren Bartov's salon in Notting Hill for them to use a radio frequency device on my face for about 10 minutes. For the price of less than one session at the salon, I can now use it every week, with the same instant results. It's a heat-generating device and your skin will flush red afterwards, but it goes down quickly and leaves your skin looking and feeling really plump. 

Last issue I mentioned that I’d started trying out silicone tape and I feel it requires an update because this stuff is really not as straight forward as I'd hoped it would be. Firstly, your hair sticks to it overnight. Secondly, if your face creases against the pillow or sheet, the tape crinkles with it (sort of the opposite effect to what I'd gleaned from the tin) so that when you remove it, you actually have deeper lines! I haven't given up entirely just yet, but so far it's not exactly living up to the simple skin-softening hype. 

I’ve started trying out silicone tape at night — I feel like it's a gentle step towards mouth-taping, which frightens the hell out of me! I'm using the Medway kind, soft and translucent, easy to snip and smooth over the skin. I cut it into small strips and apply it to areas of my face that tend to crease or hold tension overnight.

I'm loving how something so simple can make such a difference. Silicone tape works by creating a kind of microclimate over the skin: it locks in hydration and allows the surface to repair itself more efficiently. It’s used medically to soften scar tissue and support healing, but beyond the function, I find the actual sensation of the tape on my skin weirdly soothing.

Our Body Serum is formulated around camellina seed oil, known as gold of pleasure. This golden oil has been used for centuries to soften, protect and restore the skin. Rich in omega oils and antioxidants, it helps to strengthen the skin barrier and bring back elasticity and glow.

True to my transcendental threads, it is not just the colour and texture of the oil that invites ritual; its scent charts an opening up too. It starts earthy and green — like rich soil and freshly cut grass — and as it warms on the skin, the scent softens and “ripens”, giving way to lime, orange blossom and lavender.

The bright awakening gives way to something first grounding and then deeply rich and comforting. That olfactory shift feels like a ritual in itself.

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.