Don't Believe the Hype

I'm a sucker for hype. I pour over every beauty column in the weekend papers, looking out for the Holy Grail of creams that will make me look 21 again. Whereas what I should be doing, apparently, is getting more sleep, drinking more water and a little less Prosecco, staying out of the sun and ditching the caffeine. God how boring



The perfect face

As I'm not going to follow that advice, I'm succoured into believing that there is a cream out there which, when applied, will turn me into Kate Bosworth. Kate, with skin so smooth and shiny it looks as though it's been ironed every day, and then gently misted with tiny diamonds. That's the look I want, and I'm not going to do a Renee Zellweger face transformation (whilst denying any surgery) to get there.

Hence why I read the beauty columns, and end up paying stupid money for a cream that promises to transport me back to my youth, but still leaves me looking like a Chinese Shar-Pei.

Product scam

The sensible side of me knows that those beauty editors only promote a product because they've received a freebie in the post. Plus the PR company promoting the product will entice them with promises of more goodies to come if they give the product an award or 5 star rating.

I know all of that, so why do I lose all sense of reasoning when it comes to face creams and get sucked into the hype? It's totally irrational.

Experimenting at home

So I've decided to conduct my own experiment.

For the next 6 weeks I'm going to apply an expensive face cream to one side of my face, and Ponds Cream (cost £5.49) to the other side.

If you believe the hype, then the expensive side of my face should look "dewy and youthful" à la Kate Bosworth, whilst the other side should end up looking like Freddy Krueger from "Nightmare on Elm Street".

But I'm guessing there won't be a discernible difference, and I'll look like Freddy Krueger all over. In which case I can ditch my expensive face cream habit, and spend the money I save on more Prosecco.

The truth hurts

What I do know is that I won't be asking my youngest for his opinion, given a recent conversation we had.

"Darling if you didn't know me, how old would you think I was?"

"90" came back the swift reply. He didn't even stop to think about that one, or look up from his book to study my face.

"OK, let's put it another way, and if you want me to reveal where I've hidden your Halloween sweets, how old do you really think I look?"

"I really think you look like a very young looking 90" came the reply.

The sweets are staying hidden and the experiment begins.

Amanda Coxen, Working Mum and Tinies Director

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