Shelley Bridgeman: Are you a sucker for infomercials?

Shelley's run in with a hair curler didn't put her off buying other newfangled contraptions. Photo / iStock

I have long been suspicious of infomercials.

Apart from the fact they are typically broadcast to "an off-peak audience likely to comprise the unemployed, the clinically depressed and the elderly", their claims just seem too good to be true.

I was once tempted by an infomercial for a lint remover. It soon became clear that this was no standalone rolling device; it was part of a set of four or more others. But, what would I do with the rest of them? Where would I put them? This was fast turning into a storage situation. A problem was emerging when it was supposed a handy solution. Yet the should-I-shouldn't-I tussle continued inside my head.

As the infomercial progressed, a "two sets for the price of one" deal was revealed. Seriously? All I had contemplated purchasing was one small gadget and now I was being offered eight or ten. Talk about lint remover overload. My desire to buy evaporated.

Memories of a previous encounter with the infomercial world still lingered. I had been starting to fear that I had signed up for a lifetime's supply of Meaningful Beauty face lotions. The packages kept arriving and I kept not quite figuring out how to stop them.

Luckily my credit card expired. A series of letters advised that there would be no more deliveries until payment details were updated. It was supposed to be a warning but I was just grateful their source of ready funds had finally dried up.

I'm even susceptible to videos playing in retail outlets. A few years ago I purchased a VS Sassoon Curl Secret because the footage in the Noel Leeming store showed how easily it created hairdresser-style curls.

I was sold until Christmas morning when I decided to tizzy up my hair before lunch. The message printed on it read: "IMPORTANT: Always use this side facing towards the head". I rolled my eyes and decided to live dangerously. What's the worst that could happen?

What happened was that a decent-sized chunk of my hair became stuck in the turning mechanism. The biggest problem was that the inside of the unit was burning hot. My hair was not only stuck; it was being fried. The hair was supposed to be released after a few seconds but, with the styling device facing the wrong way, that feature seemed to no longer work. Steam began to rise from my head - I hoped it was steam and not smoke.

Trying not to panic, I took a few deep breaths and switched it off at the wall. Steam continued to rise. I shouted for my husband who somehow managed to extract my hair without burning either of us.

My hair must be tough because it emerged unscathed. I served and ate Christmas lunch with gorgeous curls on one side of my head and limp locks on the other. No one noticed.

I should have learned my lesson but last week a video for the Roomba self-propelled vacuum cleaner was playing in the same Noel Leeming store. You know what happened next.

In my defence, I checked some online reviews first. My favourite one detailed how Roomba smeared cat poop across a living room floor.

As previously revealed, I have recently taken up vacuuming.

I do a really thorough job but I don't enjoy it. Roomba seemed the answer to my woes. As soon as I got home I sat down with a cup of tea and watched it whizz around, under sofas, over rugs, everywhere. Roomba was so amazing I took videos of it.

For that first week, I thought about my new acquisition all the time. I would make plans for Roomba, imagine which rooms I'd let it loose in, which beds it would vacuum under next. I hadn't been that besotted with a product or service since my whirlwind dalliance with Bongo in the summer of 2010.

But Roomba is not perfect. It left a couple of minor marks on my wooden floors where it did some sharp turns. It got stuck on a heating grille on the floor. Once I lost track of its whereabouts; it returned covered in cobwebs and looking like it had been on an awesome adventure.

Roomba and I share the vacuuming duties now; it does the carpeted rooms while I do the wooden floors. My time spent vacuuming each week has halved and I no longer have to shift heavy furniture in order to vacuum underneath.

So far the post-purchase dissonance has not arrived. Meanwhile I'm just glad a person's true character can't be assessed from the infomercial products they buy. Face creams, hairstyling devices and vacuuming robots would point to someone who is both shallow and lazy. That couldn't possibly be right. Actually, come to think of it, it's probably pretty close though.