A while ago I mentioned a product my beautician was going crazy about. Now, she’s  gorgeous and happily bright eyed and bushy tailed with the gloss of youth. Her eyelashes are long and full.  The reason she was recommending this product to me was because her mother (gulp – horrifying when you realise you are around the same age as the mother of your fully grown – just had a baby- beautician) found it really worked and her lashes ‘are amazing since she started using it!’

Middle-Age is a cruel thing. I have been unpleasantly surprised by the unexpected effects of surviving past my 45th birthday. As I hurtle towards my 50th, I am mourning the following:

• Thinning hair which refuses to grow past my jaw line. I can cope with grey (there’s always dye in any case) but I hate how, as you get older, the hair around your temples and forehead can give up the ghost. I’ve got bags of hair at the back of my head but what’s the damn use of that? I don’t give a monkey’s what I look like from behind.
• Your face becomes more mannish. I don’t know why this is or how it happens but I think it’s to do with your forehand sagging over your eyes and the jowls you develop hanging down, making your face look more square.
• Your eyebrows and eyelashes can thin and disappear. Faint eyebrows have a major role in making you look older. It’s well worth defining them as it’s quick and easy and has a great effect.

So, before I depress myself even further by continuing this horrifying list, let’s turn to the good news.

Revitalash: It only bloody works!

At the beginning of August I bought the Advanced Eyelash Conditioner. You have to put it on every day and I was really cynical about it.

Because I tend to keep forgetting about amazing new products I have bought (often at great expense) I plonked the bottle right in front of my toothpaste so I couldn’t miss seeing it when I brushed my teeth in the morning.

I was pretty good about putting it on regularly, but I didn’t notice any difference for ages. I kept taking photos to measure some change but for the first few weeks and months? Nothing. Nada. Zip. I didn’t see any change but did discover I had a tiny, rather revolting skin tag nestling in my eyelashes, so… good to know. That made me feel so much better. Yuk.

Anyway. I kept stroking the stuff on. The only week I missed was when I came down with my usual stress-induced attack of conjunctivitis, but was back to the applying it daily once the infection had  passed.

Last week I took a photo and literally did a double take. What the…? I thought. Had I left false eye-lashes on?

That is LITERALLY what I thought because they looked so thick. It’s not often you get measurable results like this. Sorry the pictures aren’t great but I’m hoping you get the idea.

 

 

Can you see a difference? I was gobsmacked. And no, I’m not wearing a lengthening mascara.

I am so pleased!

The only problem is I have to keep doing it every day now and it isn’t cheap, but if it works I don’t mind paying.

You can buy it here on Amazon using my link which gives me some cash, but you can buy it anywhere you like! I would recommend you do if you like having lovely, long, lustrous lashes. It’s makes you look a bit younger too I reckon.

Finally, do you remember me saying how brilliant LiquidLast is?

Well… Last weekend we held a little (very belated) Halloween party at my school. My daughter wanted to come along and got out her scary cat costume to wear.

Meanwhile I was very pleased with my costume which was a big air-blow-up plastic thing which gave the illusion of me being a small boy in a red shirt and blue trousers being dragged away by a huge black hooded ghost.

I was delighted with myself, posing in front of the mirror so was rather distracted when Daughter asked me how she could draw on her whiskers.

‘Oh just use my eyebrow pencil or something,’ I said, not really listening.

Boy. Was I going to regret this.

The following morning Daughter was due to play a leading role in her school’s remembrance service. She would be front and centre in the choir, charming the grannies and granddads who would be coming to the service to hear these lovely, innocent children lifting their voices sweetly in song.

I was lying in bed thinking about getting up and driving her to the church when she called to me from the bathroom.

‘I can’t get this off, mummy.’

‘What, darling?’

‘My whiskers!’

‘Oh it’ll be fine, just give it a scrub with some soap and water.’

Fifteen minutes later Daughter appears, her poor cheeks red and raw. Panic is rising in her eyes.

‘It won’t come off!’ She’s starting to hyperventilate now.

‘OK, OK, don’t worry,’ I grumble, reluctantly getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. ‘I’ll use some make-up remover, it’ll be fine.’

Half an hour later and I am staring in astonishment at an absolutely pristine cotton pad. Not one jot of the black whiskers have come off. I had started with Micellar water and it was hopeless. Next a creamy cleanser. Nothing. I tried more soap and water – no luck.

Jesus! We had to leave in ten minutes!

The whiskers were as black and bold as ever.

Rob suggested white spirit but I think he was joking.

‘What on earth did you use?’ I said in desperation, Daughter is now tearful with the ruddy cheeks of a confirmed alcoholic.

‘I can’t remember!’ she wailed.

‘Was it permanent marker?’ I am still fruitlessly scrubbing at her face with anything I can think of. Has she tattooed this on!?

‘I don’t knoooowww!’ she sobbed.

The lines aren’t budging. I cannot think what she could possibly have used that is proving so hard to shift.

I am seriously thinking we will need to phone the choir master to tell him Daughter won’t be able to make it. My mind boggles as I wonder if a scarf jauntily tied across her face will work. Will she ever be able to leave the house again? What was this stuff?

I dragged Daughter to my make up bag.

‘OK, OK, it’s going to be fine,’ I soothed trying to be heard above her hysterical sobbing, ‘Just look at this and show me what you used. Was it this?’ I held up an eyebrow pencil. She shook her head. ‘This eye crayon?’ Another negative.

Then I spotted it… The Liquidlast.

‘Was it this?’

Her eyes brightened, ‘yes that’s it!.’

So there you have it, ladies and gentleman, proof that Liquidlast really does stick to your skin.

At least it wasn’t permanent marker. With seconds to spare I rummaged around my bathroom drawers to find a VERY heavy duty oily eye and lip cleanser from Clinique. It still took a good few swipes, but the thick, black whiskers finally disappeared and I sent a clean, though tomato red-faced, daughter off to the service. At least she matched her poppy.

Here is a link to some of my other blogs on my favourite beauty enhancers – specifically aimed at over-45 warriors.

‘Wear Big Earrings as they Help Light up Your Face’ Some beauty tips and tricks I have learned over the past 35 years. Post 1

‘Wear Big Earrings as they Help Light up Your Face’ Some beauty tips and tricks I have learned over the past 35 years. Post 2

I don’t care if I’m old – I’m going to wear red lipstick.

An Extra Red Lipstick Post

Finding my Vamp: How to do Smoky when your Eyes are Hooded (and Old)

Help! My Skin Looks Like Crap: Liz Earle and Boots No 7 to the Rescue

Autumn, Writing, and La Mer Face masks