I really can’t get through winter, or indeed the Great British Summer, without this stuff. There is a pot in my bathroom, one in my car and one on the desk in my office. I liberally apply it to my wind-burnt face, chapped lips and dry scaly over-washed hands. It’s cheap, cheerful, yet thick enough to be effective. Even my husband, who as a born and bred Yorkshire farmer is as far from a modern-day ‘metrosexual’ as it is possible to be, is a convert. Great stuff.