My house is a testing ground for trends, and a graveyard for the failures

“Does my bum look big?”

I lifted my head from my doomscrolling. My husband was ultra-focused on his book. Maybe buying time.

“Don’t answer that question,” I cautioned. “It’s a no-win answer.”

We’ve done it all in my house – smoothies, vegetarian, high protein. But I drew the line at vegan. Credit: Gu Studio

I queried my daughter as to what was the correct answer, joking that I had spent decades trying not to have a big bum. It turns out that just like skinny versus baggy jeans, things have flipped, and bigger is better. To me, the pursuit of big booties was always the preserve of the rich and famous who opted for Brazilian butt lifts instead of diet and spot exercise.

But here we are. This is life in a house with curious offspring where for more than 10 years, I’ve watched the latest social media trends be tested, and inevitably die. Often, I don’t even realise it’s happening. Months later, I have an aha moment – so that’s what the requests for copious amounts of lemons, ginger and quinoa, and my missing yoga mat, were all about.

As a teen, I looked to my older sisters and Dolly for my trend inspo. These days, my Instagram feed is full of cats, crochet, gardens and housing decor, but the kids are soaking up guidance on health, wellness and style.

The old mandoline slicer has been returned to the back of the cupboard now that the TikTok cucumber salad fad is over, at least in our house. Thank goodness, because I had to hold my tongue as my daughter risked losing her fingertips as she guided cucumbers up and down the blade, often without the guard. “Cucumber x 3” no longer appears on my shopping list; the last of them rotted in the crisper before heading to the worm farm.

For a while, apple cider vinegar was in hot demand. One child was glugging it for its purported digestive benefits and the other using it as a hair rinse. I assumed it was a hair rinse because I found it in the bathroom after pulling the pantry apart looking for it to put in a salad dressing. I didn’t ask.

One of the kids walks around sipping hot and cold drinks with a straw to protect teeth enamel. I am yet to catch the use of the sideways anti-ageing straw, designed to prevent wrinkles by ensuring lips aren’t pursed.

Facial icing was short-lived. When I came across the silicone roller in the freezer, I thought it was an icy pole maker. Turns out, you roll the ice cube on your face to increase blood flow and reduce puffiness. I’m not convinced facial icing works, but I could imagine its broader appeal on a hot day.

My shopping trolley was filled with high-protein yoghurts for a while because you can’t build a butt without protein. I thought the kids might be accompanying me to the supermarket as a bonding exercise, but it was so I would pay for their groceries.

A decade ago, they wanted to be vegetarians for ethical reasons. We morphed into a vegetarian-sometimes-pescatarian lifestyle. I put my foot down at vegan. But now, lean chicken and red meat to build protein are back on the shopping list even though I’m still a pescatarian.

In words I never thought I would say, I grew kale to meet the unrelenting demands of the poke bowl phase. To be fair, by the time the fad was over, I was quite fond of kale if it was doused in enough dressing, but who even knew you massaged kale?

The household flirted with acai bowls but early on, the acai was removed, and they settled on variations of oats, frozen berries, bananas, Greek yoghurt, honey and ridiculous amounts of peanut butter.

One of the kids spent their hard-earned on a cold press juicer that has more parts than a jet engine and takes up an entire cupboard on its own. It was used three times. I was slightly relieved given the cost of bunches of out-of-season celery.

I could host a Good Food blind test for chai with various products trialled and pushed to the back of the pantry. Bubble tea was also fleeting.

We picked up the TikTok baked feta pasta during the endless days of pandemic lockdowns where all we thought about was what we were going to eat next. It remains a crowd pleaser. That is, unless it happens to be one of those weeks when one of the kids is on a no-carbs plan.

Right now, make-up dupes – i.e. knock-off versions of the famous brands – are big. Eager to please in the lead-up to Christmas, I found myself on my hands and knees at the local chemist, peering at the tiny labels on the lip liner on the bottom shelf to ensure I bought the right one. I had stupidly asked one of the kids what they wanted, and made it my mission to track down the Rimmel lip liner in cappuccino. It was sold out.

In the past week, it came back in stock, and I hot-footed to the chemist where there were supposed to be nine on the shelf, but by the time I arrived, there was none. Apparently, it’s highly desirable among young shoplifters.

In good news, I’m click-and-collecting one from another store. I can’t wait to surprise my daughter with it – assuming she still wants it.

Claire Heaney is a Melbourne writer.

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