Summary
DON'T you hate it when young people tell you how old, wrinkly and generally decrepit they are? Like super-WAG Elen Rives who, when dumped by footballer Frank Lampard, wailed: 'It's too late for me, I'm old. The papers say I'm 29, but I'm 34.' Then there are all those twentysomethings who are stampeding into Boots to snap up No 7 Protect & Perfect Intense Beauty Serum, the new anti-wrinkle cream that performed so well in clinical trials and is aimed at what is politely called mature skin.
That's me they're talking about. By the time I got to the High Street, they'd run out. I asked the girl at the till, who had just grabbed the last bottle from the shelves, how old she was. 'Twenty- six,' she told me.See the full content of this document
Extract
My Seven Secret Steps That Help Me Say... I'm so Happy to Be 57 ; Diary of Going Grey
'Is it for your mum?' I inquired. . 'Not likely,' she replied. 'I'm the one who needs it.'
So three cheers for Elle Macpherson, happy to admit to being 45, who, when asked 'What's the pe...See the full content of this document
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