Life After Thirty Ten

So what's it like to be the average British woman sliding down the slippery slope towards 50 before you can say 'Wonderbra' out loud through a mouthful of chocolate?  I'll tell you.

Bras are suddenly there for the purpose of scaffolding and not just to look pretty. G strings look like weapons of torture rather than a sexy addition to one's wardrobe. Derrieres drop an inch from where they used to be and boobs make out with kneecaps.

Then there are the grey hairs. Of course mine are a lustrous silver but are hidden under an iced chocolate dye and won't see the light of day for many years to come, thank you very much. Hair gets dryer and loses its gleam unless you are fortunate enough to have discovered Andrew Barton's gorgeous Frizz Tamer hair products and cleverly slaver them on with abandon *free tip*.

Foundations, mineral enhanced products, non-bleeding lipsticks, scrubs, serums and detoxins line up on the dressing table in ever increasing numbers where once there lay a bottle of Chanel, a light moisturiser and a red lipstick.

Face creams are tried and tested, greatly increasing in their expense until we are slicking on something that wouldn't look out of place on a Atlantic swimmer, all in the hope of a reduction in crow's feet and laughter lines. (I swear that one wasn't there yesterday).

Basted, pruned, plucked and scrubbed we go out praying it doesn't rain because the brolly is broken again and we have run out of waterproof mascara.

Of course, if you have a lot of money and feel the urge you can nip and tuck at the cosmetic surgeons and bend and thrust at the gym all you like. (The rest of us hold it all in and try not to breathe out much).

And what does the average British man do? Run some wax through his hair, slap on some aftershave and straighten his tie...

Are we nearly ready yet? You must be joking!

But when we do step out, we're worth it ;)