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The Craving – As the cold weather sets in, and finding tropical fruit becomes a depressingly impossible task, I naturally crave most that which I can’t have – Mangoes. Pulpy, sweet, squeezable, succulent, so juicy they drip down your chin in rivulets. About as sinful as food gets, really. The length of time it takes to peel one only increases the breathless anticipation of the moment you finally lift it to your lips. The thrill of the chase, made manifest in fruity form.

The Solution: Whenever I feel in danger of gnawing the plastic fruit on my aunt’s coffee table, I reach instead with trembling fingers for the Mango Dry Mist from The Body Shop. Cheap and delicious, it sprays on quick, and smells luscious for ages. As good as a real, fat, dangerously sweet mango that cuts like butter and quickens your heartbeat? Sigh. Nothing is, Darling – but this at least ensures you won’t be spending the evening picking plastic out of your teeth, and apologizing to Auntie Julie. Again.

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