'Sh*t - I'm nearly 30' Skincare Wisdom ... (Part 2)

Following on from my previous post about what little things you can do to get great skin, here's some of my hero products I've found useful over the years as a beauty editor. Enjoy ...

Sunscreen - every day without fail unless you want to look like Yoda when you're older. I love Zelens and Radical Skincare as they don't clog my pores, but any other brand is more or less fine provided it has UVA protection (against the ageing rays) as well as UVB (against the burning ones).

Aesop Chamomile Concentrate Anti-Blemish Mask- use this once/twice a week to get rid of all the debris and gunk your normal cleansing routine can't. Especially if you live in a polluted city.

Erno Laszlo Deep Sea Mud Deep Cleansing Bar - when Hollywood facialist Dr. Laszlo was teaching the likes of Marilyn Monroe and Audrey Hepburn (yes you heard right) to wash their faces properly, he used this. I recently sent a bar to my friend with problem skin - she hasn't had to go back to the doctor's since.

Clarisonic Mia 2 Sonic Skin Cleansing System - use this once or twice a week (any more and your skin might get irritated) to put pores through their paces and leave skin superbly smooth.

Decleor Neroli Aromessence - a mini facial in a bottle - a few drops of this stuff are all you need before bed, expect to wake with buttery soft skin of a 20 year old.

Estee Lauder Revitalizing Supreme Global Anti-Aging Creme- Lauder are the Mac Daddies of the beauty world and for good reason. They have heaps of money to put into research, resulting in some seriously hard-working skincare. This cream works on all skin tones and transformed my complexion even after the first time I used it. If you're starting to look for anti-aging solutions, this is a worthy investment.

Dr. Murad Clarifying Toner - some people say toner is pointless. I would disagree. It removes anything your cleanser didn't get the first time round (we're not always thorough with washing our faces come 11pm when we're knackered and desperate to fall into bed). Plus this contains salicylic acid (if you have spotty/greasy skin comme moi, this stuff will be your best friend) to dissolve dead skin cells to keep your complexion spick and span.

Creme De La Mer The Eye Concentrate - it's been said enough times, but I'll say it again - the skin around the eyes are first to show the signs of ageing. This magic potion will firm it up a treat. It's cheaper than a designer purse, and you only get one face after all ...

Radical Skincare Serum - I wouldn't recommend an expensive product unless I was 100% convinced by it. This stuff works for its money, packed with potent antioxidants and actives to bring your skin back to life.

Flannels (any ones will do) - to remove your cleanser, rinsed in hot (not boiling) water. They exfoliate and open the pores in one. A must - wash your face properly people!

Sudocrem - although they don't tackle acne as advertised on the tub, this stuff is good for the odd spot, scaly skin or red patch.

Skyn Iceland Hydro Cool Firming Eye Gels - when you're hungover, these are a godsend. The skin around the eyes has no oil glands so it needs all the moisture it can get. In short, a godsend.

Pond's Cold Cream - a great budget cleanser, I always grab one of these at the airport. It removes eye-makeup. Kylie's a fan. What else do you need to know?

'Meh' Days

Today I decided was going to be a productive Sunday. I even had a 'to do' list with several things I was going to work on. These included:

1. Writing a post for this blog on my favourite skincare products of all time.
2. Reading a beauty book which was going to be inspiration for another book myself and a fellow journalist were planning to write.
3. Reading a few chapters of Peter Ackroyd's 'London - The Biography' which will hopefully make me more culturally aware of the city I live in and give me some inspiration for the Epic Novel I'm one day going to write.
4. Writing two short news pieces due in next week.
5. Starting some background reading for my MA course that I'm going to start in a few weeks' time.
6. Going to a Ballates class
7. Tidying my room and de-cluttering my shelves

Needless to say, I've done 0 of these proposed tasks. My actual day has consisted of:

1. Drinking tea
2. Watching the end of Eat, Pray, Love (not a great film, but the scenery/Javier Bardem is nice to look at)
3. Drinking more tea
4. Buying an overpriced aubergine salad
5. Eating nearly a whole packet of cheddar and pistachio biscuits from Ottolenghi
6. Reading all of two pages of Peter Ackroyd's 'London - The Biography' and falling asleep on the sofa.
7. Waking up and making some tea.

Sometimes you can start the day with the best of intentions, but have not one single ounce of motivation whatsoever. And then you spend the rest of the day beating yourself up about being a useless member of society. You desperately try to start tasks then get frustrated and not finish them, in a vain attempt to have done something productive come 9pm. Then you start spiralling into self-doubt 'well, I'm never going to succeed at anything if I don't push myself/spend my days faffing about like this etc, etc.'

This is what I found tricky about being a student, and later being a freelance journalist working from home. But sometimes it's just worth accepting that there will be days where your mind just wants to do naff all, and you'd rather loaf about than try and find a solution for world peace. Yes it's great to have those productive days where you wake up with the sun, head off to that spinning class, get home bright eyed and bushy tailed and spend the rest of the day at a high level of productivity, feeling on top of the world. But sometimes, complete lack of motivation is your mind and body's way of telling you that you need to chill the f*ck out.

You're not an automaton and you sometimes need the lazy, non-productive days to take stock and recharge your batteries. Also some of the best ideas can come about from lazing around - think of Isaac Newton chilling out under that tree and discovering gravity, after an apple hit him on the head... I'm not saying slobbing out on the sofa is going to win me a Nobel prize, but it's healthy to have days where you give your mind and body a break. I think living in a big city and not having children to look after makes you feel pressurised to spend your free time working towards something, or expanding your cultural horizons, or hitting the gym, or socialising.

But in a way, it's like when you can't get to sleep and start panicking about it - the best solution to just lie there/go and watch some dodgy foreign film on TV and not get worked up about it. In the same way, sometimes it's necessary to embrace one's inner slob, make yourself a cup of tea and not feel like a complete failure. Self-love and self-acceptance comes in many guises after all.

How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Gym

I know a lot of my posts so far make me sound like a smug, has-got-it-together type who - at the ripe old age of 29 - has managed to iron out every niggling neurosis and for whom life is plain sailing. Well, I may have less to moan about than I did ten years ago, but - surprise, surprise - I'm far from 'sorted'. I have those mornings like today, where I wake up and my brain decides to play a home-movie-style showreel of everyone who's f*cked me over in the past and every instance where I could have stood up for myself but didn't. Culminating in me thinking that I don't actually have any true friends because I don't have anything anybody wants, people are just going to walk all over me for the rest of my life and I'm going to live out my days as a sad, single lonely hermit.

Then I took myself to the gym and went spinning. And felt a million times better. The benefits of fitness on your mental health are seriously underrated. Why the government doesn't put more effort into promoting fitness for better psychological wellbeing in secondary schools (teenagers I think are especially vulnerable to mental health issues and depression) is beyond me. When I was at school, I saw P.E. as a weekly humiliation - completely pointless ('how does shooting a ball into a hoop get me a job?' etc.)

Plus, I wasn't the most sporty of children. I was part of what my teacher called the 'note brigade' - always having an excuse why I had to sit out of dance/swimming/hockey/netball. There was never any emphasis on how great exercise makes you feel, more about making it onto the school netball team and 'having a great body'.

Years later into my early twenties, my friends and I still used to snigger at the keen, sporty girls who went to the gym every night and sports clubs after work - dismissing them as ferociously competitive 'jolly hockey sticks' types. My friends and I used to join gyms together and then sneak off to the pub when 'gym time' came - laughing like a group of naughty school girls bunking off double maths. Later when I moved to North London, I had the same attitude towards the whippet thin 'yoga bunnies' I saw striding down Upper Street, yoga mat in one hand, soya latte in the other.

I came to the conclusion that I was just not a 'gym going' type - and styled myself in the manner of Bridget Jones (complete lack of self-discipline yet loveable for it etc.). Even when I joined my local Fitness First a few years ago,  with the intention of doing three 7am spinning classes a week, part of me remained unconvinced that I would stick at it.

Yet in the years that followed, it was my gym-routine that helped keep me sane when I broke up with my ex and lost my grandmother. So yes, this may have turned me into a fitness 'bore' I used to mock in my former days. No, I haven't morphed into Miranda Kerr - but I feel better and yes, a little trimmer than before. I love the appetite you work up in a spinning class, the energised feeling it leaves you with and the ability to de-stress after an hour of yoga. It's not about being thinner than my friends or having a 'holier than thou' attitude. It's about being more bodily aware and focusing on the present, rather than living in your head and being stuck in the past.

Rather than a new year's resolution or a passing phase, the gym has definitely become a big part in my life  - I couldn't imagine not going for a few weeks, I would really miss it.

But if the idea of a gym really isn't for you and you'd rather be in the great outdoors, running is a good alternative. I've also discovered Rooftop Yoga classes, led by the lovely Lucy Bannister which take place on top of a car park in Peckham and boasts one of the most beautiful views of the city. There are worse ways to spend a Sunday morning...

Clean and Lean living

Following on from my 48 hours of David Kirsch's pink lemonade-hell, I’ve been loosely following James Duigan’s popular book Clean and Lean. The argument is fairly simple: stick to raw, organic and unprocessed foods wherever possible. Rather than cut out sugar, fat and carbs altogether it’s all about knowing the right types i.e. natural sugars from fruit will sustain energy levels, fats from avocados, nuts and oily fish will provide the body with nutrients and get burned off easily, the same goes for complex carbs (again fruit, seeds, oats, wholegrain bread). Synthetic ‘toxic’ foods can’t be processed by the body -  such as saturated fat, chemicals and refined sugar (any junk food, white bread, chocolate – you get the idea) so they will get stored as fat, not to mention zap your energy and increase your stress levels.

Typical brekkie - eggs & avocados

The main point James wants to hammer home is avoid sugar where you can, which I totally agree with (see my previous post on how sugar ruins your skin. The Guardian also ran an interesting article about how it is as arguably as toxic as cigarettes or cocaine). He argues it’s primarily what makes you fat, not fatty foods  - it toxifies your body, messes up your energy levels and gives you hunger pangs which is why you’re inclined to ‘grazing’ come 4pm. As well as cutting down on sugar, I’ve cut out wheat as well as per the book’s advice, as again it leaves me feeling sluggish – a sign that I’m probably intolerant to it – as many people are. Instead mid-morning and afternoon snacks consist of nuts and fruit. I can’t stick to all of it: only one ‘cheat meal’ a week, no alcohol (!!), cutting down on caffeine, cutting out processed foods altogether proved more than  a little tricky) but I am eating a lot more avocados and making breakfast more of a meal - which the book also advises.

M&S Nutty Super Wholefood Salad with chicken (lunch of the gods ...) 

So rather than a croissant grabbed from Pret on the hoof, it’s gluten-free toast with some avocado on top – and unusually for me, I’m not scratching at the door come lunch time. And for lunch I’ve swapped my carb-laden sandwich for an M&S Nutty Super Wholefood Salad (nuts, quinoa, broccoli, green beans, almonds and pistachios). While for tea it’s homemade guacamole (gotta love those avocados) some chicken or salmon, houmous and salad. I still eat out a few times a week, so my once-weekly ‘cheat meal’ turns into ‘thrice-weekly’ – still not sure how to get around that one. But hopefully it’s balanced out by the other stuff.  I’ve definitely noticed a difference already, people have remarked I ‘look well’ and have ‘lost weight’. As a diehard carb-lover and the world's least successful dieter, I may not be the perfect ‘Clean and Lean’ candidate, but I’m getting there - one avocado at a time.

Lydia from Mrs Doubtfire and Her Downright FUGLY Wardrobe

By now most of us have heard the sad news about Robin Williams. I absolutely loved him as a child - watching Mrs Doubtfire practically every night when I got home from school and quoting lines from it with my classmates during the day. I knew the whole script backwards. But watching it again the other night (for old times' sake) 20years on, I noticed that Mrs Doubtfire is probably the best-dressed character in the whole film. (Robin himself recently noted how smoking hot he looked when compared to Kim Kardashian's paltry efforts.)

Watching the film 20 years later, have you ever noticed how unbelievably sh*t Lydia's wardrobe is? I don't wish to sound mean - this isn't a pop at the stunningly beautiful actress Lisa Jakub who played her. But seriously, you'd think the costume department would be a bit more savvy about how young teenagers dress... 

As the eldest child in the film, I'm guessing she's meant to be about 14. Maybe they do things differently in San Francisco, but she didn't dress like any of the teenagers I knew in the 90s. Flitting between granny-chic and a 9 year old on a school trip to the zoo, what they make her wear is just hideous (her father dressing up as a pensioner should have been the least of her worries). I know her character's meant to be a wholesome Miss Goody Two Shoes type, but you'd think at 14, her dress sense would be a tad more sophisticated. See for yourself ...

Yes love, we'd look p*ssed off if we'd been forced to wear that too.

Is she crying over her parents' divorce or her granny blouse complete with 'Harvest Festival chic' waistcoat?

Tablecloth cardigans were de rigeur in 90s San Francisco. But nevermind Lydia - what the hell is with Chris's ten-sizes-too-big, hideously patterned, sludge-coloured shirt? Just look at those sleeves - is he channeling David Copperfield?! How any 12 year old could survive the bus ride home from school wearing that is beyond belief. Did those poor children have to rummage through lost property when they needed new clothes? This is full blown child neglect.

Take note: they're in San Francisco in what looks like the height of summer - by a pool. So naturally Lydia rocks out the dowdy dad jumper - complete with claret coloured shirt peering out underneath - topped off with a hideous upturned straw hat as if she's about to lead the WI in a chorus of 'Jerusalem'...

Luckily the children's father made up for their complete lack of dress sense. Plus this guy can work eyeliner and red lippie like nobody's business. The pic below is just one of the many examples of what a legend he is. RIP to an amazing talent and comic genius.

The Late-20s Energy Dip - How Pink Lemonade Can Help

The worst thing about this getting older malarkey (aside from the frown lines and the 'do you think you'll ever get married?' questions from well-meaning relatives) has to be the massive dip in energy. I'm really not sure why I still feel tired after a decent night's sleep and a relatively stress-free day at work. Plus feeling exhausted at the end of the week means I haven’t had a ‘late one’ on a Friday night for as long as I can remember. (To quote Chandler from Friends: “I’m 29 years old dammit. And I want to sit in a comfortable chair, and watch television, and go to sleep at a reasonable hour.”)

Hence aside from cutting back on caffeine, I’ve realised the key to all this is what I'm eating. So I've decided to embark on a diet-overhaul. Not to resemble a stick insect (which, after nearly 20 years of failed diet attempts, I have finally accepted will never happen) but more to avoid falling asleep at my desk. So I’ve sought help from two chaps: David Kirsch and James Duigan; the former has created a 48-hour cleanse which I did a few weeks back, while the latter is the author of the famous Clean & Lean book which is now my food bible (more on this in my next post).

I’d wanted to try the David Kirsch 48 HR Super Charged Cleanse for a while. Its basic premise is that you drink this ‘nutrient-rich’ food supplement in the form of a ‘pink lemonade’, which to quote the Space NK website blurb is full of “colon, liver and kidney cleansing antioxidants, such as acai berry, milk thistle and cranberry extract. It also features added fibre and energy-boosting vitamin B12.” Hence I toddled down to Space NK to try it for myself, the kindly shop assistants warning me that it’s “not easy.” They weren’t kidding.

The idea is you drink this bland-tasting lemonade (which contains no added sugar) over the course of two days. I’d advise you do this over a weekend and cancel any plans you might have, as you will be KNACKERED. Not to mention the headaches from the sugar and caffeine withdrawal.

Literally the day after the cleanse, a colleague told me how well I was looking. I also noticed I was less tired and irritable (probably tied up with feeling a little smug at having got through it). It also gave me the motivation I needed to eat healthily the following week, lest my two days of semi-starvation were in vain. Having craved food in any shape or form for two days, I found I was taking the time to appreciate each meal. And tucking into healthy food with relish – rather than resort to bread, KitKats and bags of Doritos after a stressful day.

My verdict - it’s not for everyone and shouldn’t be done more than a few times a year, but it’s a good (albeit hardcore) way to kick-start a healthy eating plan. If you’re looking for other ways to boost your energy levels, I’ve also heard great things about David Kirsch’s Super Charged Greens – especially for when you’re travelling on long-haul flights.

Toxic People and How To Deal With Them - A Pocket Guide

As fate would have it, I start writing a blog about being 29 and the Guardian run an article about why this is seen as an optimum age and why the author thinks of herself as a 'better friend' at 29.

I agreed with her point that the friends you make in your teens and early twenties can be very hit-and-miss, but your late twenties isn't without its friendship dramas either. The main problem when you reach the ripe old age of 29 is that everyone's so busy with jobs, spouses and children that people have less and less time for each other. It's not like at school where you can catch up in Double Maths, or at uni when your room's just down the hall from theirs. Unless you work together or live near each other, friendships are take effort to maintain and that does get frustrating.

Having said that, I think 29 is a good age, not just because you learn how to form better friendships, but you're also a bit more savvy on identifying and dealing with toxic people and getting such people out of your life (but we all slip up from time to time...).

Here's a brief guide on how to deal with them (I'm not a psychologist so this obviously isn't full-proof advice, but simply what I've gleaned after having to spend many years dealing with such people):

The general public: Kill them with kindness. It embarrasses them and quickly diffuses a situation. This woman who had started having a massive go at me a few years ago for accidentally treading on her foot (after I had apologised) quickly shut up when I looked at her, smiled and uttered: 'I'm sorry you're having a bad day, but please don't let it out on me Madam.'

If they're being a complete out and out psycho, despite your polite responses, don't enter into conversation with them at all. Move away from them at the earliest opportunity. You don't need them 'dumping their shit into your energy field' so to speak.

Colleagues/employers: No one has the right to treat you like dirt, regardless of their position in your company, whether they gave you a pay rise recently or were responsible for hiring you. So many people fail to realise this, but raised voices, name calling and verbal attacks (sometimes physical threats, which I've experienced myself) are never acceptable. 'You don't need to speak to me like that/ shout at me' is one such perfectly reasonable response. If things get really bad, try having a calm one-on-one discussion with the person in question.

But the bottom line is - you don't need to stay in a job situation where there are toxic people who are making your life unbearable. You don't 'owe it to yourself' or your career to spend the majority of your time with people who are making your life a misery.

Partners: Having come out of a very difficult relationship with a narcissistic man - and dated quite a few ne'er do wells since then, it's taken me a while to realise that feeling alone when you're single is not one tenth - or hundredth - as miserable as feeling alone in a relationship (whether it's serious or not). Single ladies (whoa -oa -o): if someone you've started dating is messing you around, not making the effort and playing good old 'who can wait to text back the longest' - ditch them. If they're worth it, they'll come after you. If they aren't putting the time in at the start, they never will. Don't get upset or let them see you're upset - noone is worth humiliating yourself over. Keep your dignity, pour yourself a G&T and watch an entire series of Orange is the New Black instead.

If the person you're in a serious relationship with is making you more unhappy than not, get rid. If you feel you can't speak your mind and have to bottle things up, get rid. Yes it might be expensive moving out of a shared flat, it might be difficult if you have children together, but trust me it's worth every penny to have your sanity back. Life is too short and noone should be a martyr in a relationship. As the great philosopher Kate Upton says 'It's not your job to change him, it's not your job to be there while he's finding himself.' Preach it, Kate.

Family members: This is a major can of worms and you're probably better off seeing a family therapist than reading some dizzy North Londoner's musings on the subject. But what I will say is that toxic family members are probably the hardest of all to deal with, as grudges can go back years - especially when you feel like they're the reason you're 'so f*cked up'.

It's taken me a while to realise that the only person responsible for the how I am and how I act is myself. Hence I try not to get angry if a well-meaning parent still treats me like I'm 6 years old ('Well, it's no wonder I never have any confidence in myself!') You can either cut them out of your life for good - or, if they're not an out-and-out, irredeemable pantomime villain Katie Hopkins-type of character - keep them at arm's length, appreciate them for who they are and don't take the bait. You're not 6 years old anymore, even if they don't see it.

Friends: There are many kinds of toxic friends - but there is a particular type of person I've taken steps to weed out of my life the moment I spot the warning signs... You know the type - she makes a huge effort to reel you in at the beginning of the friendship (organising get togethers and keeping in constant contact - as she probably doesn't have many friends to start with). Then you start to hear the little comments, the put downs, the jokey complaints about something you've done to piss her off. These start getting more and more frequent until you find yourself walking on eggshells and tip-toeing around her moods. Soon enough you're constantly apologising and feeling guilty for even existing. I've been screwed over many times by people like this - as soon as you spot them run for the hills (not before telling them to sling their 'ook).

Some friends are more loyal and reliable than others, and I think we grow up being led to believe (in the same way Disney films and rom-coms mislead us about romance) that there's a 'perfect friend' out there for us, who will understand us completely can give us everything we want and need. I've come to the conclusion that there will never be such a thing as 'the perfect friend' - even among my closest mates there are petty jealousies and we do and say things to hurt each other. I don't believe in 'dumping' friends - just accepting them for who they are and focusing on their good points (and maybe speaking up if you're upset with them). You grow to learn the people you can rely on, the ones who are good for a laugh and the ones you need to avoid like the plague.

And lastly... how to not let toxic people get to you: A tricky one - I can't say I've entirely mastered it myself. I'll have days where I'll replay past incidents in my head, thinking of what I could have said and should have said. Focusing on the positive people in your life helps, as does yoga and meditation. Sally Brampton once told me 'Don't allow these people to live in your head, rent free.' Amen to that.

A Disturbing Look Into The Future ...

A friend sent me this video by comedians Garfunkel and Oates. It's a song in which two girls play the same woman two years apart - from the optimistic 29 year old, to the slightly more realistic 31 year old. Really hope this isn't me in two years time ... Amusing all the same.

'Sh*t - I'm nearly 30' Skincare Wisdom ... (Part 1)

When you get past the 25 mark, your face starts to look a little ... different. Lines start to appear on your forehead that weren't previously there. A night on the town is like an anti-facial, you wake the next morning and look like you've been hit with a shovel. Pores get larger and more obvious - cue a whole host of blackheads swarming in like the plague. Eyelids get slightly baggier, dark circles more pronounced ... you get the picture.

I've started looking at girls in their early 20s and marvelling at their gorgeous, peachy skin (I missed most of the dialogue of Silver Linings Playbook - so entranced was I with Jennifer Lawrence's porcelain complexion, damn her). Then there's sales assistant Corina who works in Rachel Vosper's beautiful candle emporium in Belgravia  - which I was lucky enough to visit yesterday - who has the kind of flawless skin you only see in magazines. (I kept talking to her just to gaze and gaze ...)

Yes it's all very well for me to sit here at say how I'm glad to be out of my 20s (more life skills, less naive, better pay cheque yada yada yada) and I certainly am. But the one thing those girls in their early 20s have over us is bloody brilliant skin - effortlessly brilliant I might add. Seriously - at 21, once those teenage hormones have calmed down, I was left with the best skin of my life (sigh!).

My skin isn't looking too bad these days but I have to work at it a little more (with the addition of a flattering Instagram filter). And I imagine, in ten years' time, I'll have to work even harder. So what have I done?

Water = good; sugar = bad
The most important thing you need to know? Your skin loves water and hates sugar. So you best start chugging that H20 (sorry, in the middle of a Breaking Bad marathon ...) like a bloody pilgrim in the desert. Have a hot water with lemon in the morning and eight glasses for the rest of the day after that. It flushes out those toxins and keeps skin plump and hydrated. I've also cut out sugar wherever possible (it's a long story, but trust me - it's your skin's arch-enemy and will give you spots and wrinkles. ELLE wrote a good piece on it recently here).

Facial Massage 
I've been massaging my mush day and night to boost circulation, firm up the jaw line and prevent dreaded 'Churchill Dog' jowls (oh, no no no no....) I'm a big fan of SUQQU's Gankin Massage - and you can follow these handy instructions to learn how to do it. Another technique I'm fond of is to get your index fingers under one cheekbone and rotate them around each other (as if you were motioning to someone to 'wind it up'). It's also super de-stressing, which brings me onto ...

Stop Whining and GO TO SLEEP
Few things (aside from UV exposure) pile on the years as much as stress does. Aside from causing tension and frown-lines, it's all down to telomeres - found on the end of our chromosomes - which are responsible for cells (e.g. skin cells) reproducing healthily. These deplete with stress - which means our skin will look the worse for it. Some good de-stressing techniques I've found so far include yoga, decluttering, running, positive thinking, cutting 'toxic' people out of your life (think I might have to dedicate a whole separate post to this one later on). And of course getting a decent eight hours' sleep speaks for itself - nothing makes your skin less hydrated and more spotty than a bad night's kip. (Calling all insomniacs - a great book I've come across recently is called The Sleep Book - which tells you everything you need to know about getting some shut eye).

Hope this advice proves useful - more to come ...

Rant: Established writers helping younger writers

Oh everyone loves a rant post don't they? I however, shall keep it short and sweet as I don't want this to become a moany negative blog. But I recently read a piece by another blogger and fellow journalist which got my goat. It basically was complaining about the many young hopeful writers she gets emails from, asking for 'free advice'.

She says 'it's rude to pick someone's brain for free' unless it's 'mutually beneficial', because despite helping people out occasionally, she also gets paid to do such things and that she'd probably give them a wrong answer anyway. I find attitudes like this somewhat irksome, as when I started out in journalism, I was advised to get in touch with as many industry professionals as possible. Some of them ignored me - but a few were kind enough to reply and I won't forget that. One particular journalist was quite brutal in her criticism of my work, but then finished with saying she thought I had talent, which spurred me on to pursue a career I might not have otherwise done. Another editor whose work I admired took the time to write me a long email about breaking into beauty writing, which proved to be very useful advice.

Now at the grand old age of 29, I'm starting to get young writers e-mailing me for feedback on their work, which I'm more than happy to give. I appreciate what this other blogger says, that writers don't always have time to reply, but I wouldn't go as far as saying it's rude for anyone to ask at all. As long as you're polite, courteous and patient, then it's not a massive ask to presume an established expert in the field you want to go into might give you a few pointers here and there. After all, it doesn't take long to send a few sentences or glance over an article.

From my own experience, if someone is truly passionate about what they do, they would enjoy talking about it and get a lot out of using their wealth of experience to help others. To say it has to be 'mutually beneficial' really depresses me, as it paints a really sad picture of our industry. Established writers should take it upon themselves to nurture and mentor growing talent - and it may actually benefit them in the long run (you don't know where these people might end up in say, five or 10 years time).

I think professional people - especially women-  in industries should be helping each other up the ladder and not looking for what they might be getting out of it. Yes we might be too busy to respond sometimes, but if the person is polite and courteous, there's something really fulfilling in replying to someone and getting a response along the lines of 'thank you so much, it really means a lot.' And as most of us learned as kids back in Primary School - there's just something nice about helping others isn't there?

How to celebrate turning 30?

This is a question I've been thinking about for a while. Not to sound like a Scrooge but I've never really got on with birthdays. I think my dread of them started when I was about 11 and I stopped getting Lego and Barbies to play with and instead got ... bubble bath and Dream Phone Game. 11 was the worst birthday ever. That day I got more bath products ('smellies') than I knew what to do with - I could have opened my own mini spa) and after a few hours of playing Dream Phone I couldn't give a shit whether it was Paul, Todd or any of the other chumps who 'fancied' me (seriously, were the feminists all on annual leave when 'child's toy' came out...?).

I know my well-meaning relatives were probably struggling with what to get me, seeing as I was too old for Lego but too young for make-up, but seriously - there's only so many baths a girl can take ... I spent the whole day bored out of my mind and the evening celebrations at Deep Pan Pizza with some girls from school wasn't enough to lift my spirits. I know this makes me sound like the world's most ungrateful brat - and kind of ironic since I now write about beauty products for a living - but compared to the excitement and fun-filled days birthday once were for the first ten years of my life, they've been the biggest let down ever since.

Milestone birthdays are ten times worse - like my 16th birthday in a local Italian place. They'd just brought the cake in, my friends had sung a round of 'Happy Birthday', when a drunken, balding middle aged man looked through the window, saw the number 16 on the balloon and made shagging motions at us ...

18 wasn't much fun either - my friend and I ended up bunking off school, going to Tesco (the glamour!) and buying some dodgy-looking 'cayenne pepper shots' with my new found freedom. Then later that week I had a joint family 'do in a scout hut, with another 18 year old whose parents were friends of mine. Again, not the raucous affair I'd been hoping for.

But my 21st was the worst. It fell on a Friday - couldn't be more perfect right? Wrong. In my last year of uni, I'd had a massive falling out with my main social group and all of my other friends were busy studying for their finals. Hence it ended up just being me and one loyal housemate who probably felt incredibly sorry for me. And we went ... to the cinema. Rock n' roll lifestyle. (I seriously wish I hadn't given up studying French and had spent my third year abroad - I could have celebrated in Paris, dammit!)

Since then I've had a series of friends meeting up for a meal and a few drinks but haven't seen fit to push the boat out. I find birthdays fairly stressful in general. Worrying that people won't turn up. People who say they're coming, who then drop out at the last minute (I know, I've been guilty of this myself). Friends who insist on bringing their 'other halves' who I haven't met and who then spend the evening snogging in a corner and not talking to anyone else. Then there's the odds and sods who arrive on their own and don't mingle, so as the guilty hostess you then feel obliged to babysit them all night. Then there's those who leave early/turn up late or just don't bother turning up at all. Also the fun usually just extends to a civilised meal - I avoid making a proper night of it. (Being January, everyone's skint - plus having to queue up outside a pub in the freezing cold is never fun).

So yeah - birthdays and me have never really coexisted harmoniously. But when I don't do anything, I then get all forlorn, a bit like my 11-year-old self with nothing but bath salts and a fictional admirer named Todd for company.

Hence, how to celebrate the big 3-0 is a tricky one. It seems like your final chance to have a last 'hurrah' before you're officially an adult. And given the fact that many of my friends have moved out of London and are settled with kids, it makes it more difficult and costly for them to come on a wild night out, let alone go away for the weekend. And where best to go? New York or Las Vegas sound fun but it's tricky getting people to shell out over a grand and go away with a load of strangers for no other reason than that It's Viola's Birthday.

Then I feel guilty trying to organise too much of a big bash, lest it becomes like that episode of TOWIE where Chloe Simms has a 'fake wedding' (complete with bride's dress) to celebrate her 30th and make her feel better about being single. Hence why I batted away my mother's suggestion of having a 'big family do' in case it seems like a surrogate engagement party. Plus, turning 30 in the company of my parents and their pissed friends (as much as I love them) wasn't exactly the glamorous soir ée I'd envisioned.

I think people feel like they need to push the boat out when celebrating their 30th (i.e. 'look how far I've come!') But do I really need a party on a rooftop pool in Beverley Hills to show that I'm Finally Successful? No. But I'd rather not sit at home with a box set either. So what to do? (Any suggestions or successful '30th birthday' stories, please feel free to pop me a comment in the box below ...)

When people talk about my age ...

The other day I was texting a 24-year-old prospective date He seemed a really sweet guy, unpretentious, with none of those naff chat up lines or lame ‘banter’ you get with most guys in London.  We were talking about our respective jobs, so I mentioned that I was a journalist which brought the predictable comparisons to Rebekah Brooks (‘oh you won’t be hacking my voicemail, madam’ etc.) He seemed a nice enough lad. Then I got the question that hit me like horse-kick to the stomach.

‘So are you looking forward to being 30?’

Uh… what am I meant to say to that? Mind your own business, you cheeky young whippersnapper? I tried to laugh it off but hoping he would take the hint and move away from the topic.

‘Well you shouldn’t ask a lady about her age.’

His response?

‘I thought there was a mistake when I saw how old you were.’

Again – thud! I mean seriously?

‘Well, I didn’t realise 29 was old ...’

Does he quit while he's ahead? Nope. He keeps on digging …

‘I don’t mean that. I mean you look a lot younger than you are. More like 21.’

It struck me that I’ve officially reached an age that can’t be talked about. 20 years ago, if someone asked how old I was, I would proudly state that I’d reached the grand old age of nine. (Almost a teenager!) Now the question, indeed even the topic of age is somewhat of a hot potato. One to be greeted with the same derision my menopausal auntie showed when I used to ask her about her age. ’18!’ she’d snap back. (Mind you, that’s not as bad as when, aged 6, I innocently asked her why she cared so much about what colour knickers she bought: ‘It’s not as if anyone’s going to see them anyway, is it?’)

Have I got to that age now? Am I basically my highly strung auntie, who blows a fuse if the subject of age comes up? I’d always felt happy about reaching 30 and for the most part, I still am.  I don’t have the hang ups I did at 19, I’ve achieved most of the milestones I set out to achieve – plus I can now afford that dress in Whistles and not just dream about it. My face looks, not wizened exactly, but slightly less plump and more defined. And in a way, I like having a few lines and looking like I’ve lived a little, as opposed to the naïve little hamster-cheeked undergrad I was back in 2004.

So why should I be getting so tetchy about the age issue? I did feel a bit bad for the guy, he probably didn’t mean to offend, but it does still touch a nerve when people talk about me ‘not looking my age’ as if I’m Madonna or Helen Mirren (as fabulous as those ladies are). I guess I’m just not ready to admit that I’m not 'young young' anymore, and although in many ways I’m bloody happy to be out of it, part of me is still sad to wave a part of my life goodbye.

However, last night, made me look at the situation a little differently. At a press event, I bumped into an ex-colleague who I first knew when I was a work experience girl. Fresh out of uni, it was my first job in London. I was a bit of a loose cannon back then, didn’t know how to behave in an office and basically made an absolute tit of myself the whole time I was there (snogging the skinny stoner who worked in the post room was a particular career low).

Unsurprisingly, my time at that place (and in TV in general) didn’t last long and after my unceremonious exit from the company, me and the ex-colleague - lets call him Ben - would message each other over Facebook and occasionally talk about ‘hooking up’ (I didn’t fancy him, but again I was young, feeling along living in London and insecure). Luckily this never happened, but nonetheless made it rather awkward to run into him again yesterday evening.

Luckily after a few drinks, the awkwardness dispelled and we managed to have a good chat - despite him making a point of telling me he had a girlfriend (‘cheers mate, will try to restrain myself!’) Ben also delighted in reminding me about a certain vile woman we both used to work with, who smoked so much that she sounded like Frank Butcher in a blonde wig and had a creepy obsession with Howard Donald from Take That. She also took it upon herself to make my life a misery (screaming at me down the phone and at one point actually threatening to beat me up). Ben talked about how well she was doing and how successful she’d become. I managed to politely smile and nod, as opposed to getting wound up and spitting venom - which 21-year-old me probably would have done.

He then mentioned another ex-colleague of ours who was on the same level as me and with whom I’d had a massive screaming row in the middle of the office (not a good idea, but he was so lazy and had only got the job on having 'the gift of the gab'. He also had one of the most punchable faces I'd ever encountered). ‘You guys really had it in for each other, didn’t you?’ Ben remarked knowingly. It was an embarrassing moment in my life, one I didn’t like to be reminded of, but again I didn’t rise to the bait. I told him about my writing career and he seemed a bit surprised that I had since morphed into a half-decent, moderately successful human being myself – and more importantly, one who was less of a tit.

With that in mind, I’m really not sure why anyone my age wishes they were younger. Looking back at my 21-year-old self, I’m slightly embarrassed and relieved that I’m not that person anymore. And yes, the next time someone asks if I'm looking forward to being 30, I’m going to respond as loudly and proudly as I did aged 9 (but hopefully won't celebrating my birthday at Quasar ... ). 

Why Sleep-In Rollers are the best thing since sliced bread

Hilda Ogden eat your heart out ...

I've always said that if I had someone come round and blow dry my hair every morning I wouldn't need a PA. I just wouldn't ever get stressed at having to organise my life, I'd instead be basking in the joy of having swishy, shiny locks that fall back into place just so, as I whip my hair back n' forth like a Pantene girl. Some people say stroking animals lowers stress levels. I say running your fingers through your perfect, swooshy Claudia Schiffer-standard locks has the same effect (I know that sounds narcissistic, but so be it).

However I've recently discovered Sleep-In Rollers and have grown an evangelical enthusiasm for them, as they're the next best thing to a salon blow-dry. Also ...

1. They don't scorch your hair like straightening tongs, hence it stays in a better condition.
2. As you're meant to pop them in the night before, you don't have to set aside half an hour of your morning routine faffing about with straightening tongs.*
3. They make your hair a whole lot bouncier than straightening tongs
4. They're less heavier and easier to take on holiday (no having to look for adapter plugs)
4. They're just better than straightening tongs m'kay?

*Ok so you could straighten your hair the night before, but I find when I leave it loose all night, it always looks a little flat and greasy the next morning, when I require height of Lana Del Ray proportions.

Going to sleep in them is a little weird at first, I'm not going to lie. You have to lie like a Geisha, flat on your back with the pillow slightly scrunched under your neck for support. But I've never woken up due to them digging into my head which is always a good sign. Otherwise if you're going out on a weekend afternoon/evening, you can always cheat and put them in several hours earlier, blast them with a hairdryer and hairspray, then take them out just before you head out the door.

£13.99 at lookfantastic.com

*PR Sample

A letter to my mother at my age

Mum even manages to make a penguin jumper look cool

Mum, I've always wondered what it would be like to be you at my age. At 29, you’ve got a 10-month old baby and living with your parents. I’m guessing you’re feeling more than a little freaked out about being a single parent and feeling more than a little pissed towards my dad at the moment. But on the upside you're looking smoking' hot, as photos of you will attest. If or when I’m a mum myself, I intend to crack out the red lipstick and spritz on the Rive Gauche as you did, come hell or high water.

You and dad were never a match made in heaven. But further down the line, you become good friends and do a great job together as parents, even though you’re from vastly different worlds and different backgrounds. Despite no longer being a couple, you bring great value to each other's lives and are extremely caring and supportive together.

The next few years are going to be difficult, you’re going to feel a little lost as you see other ‘perfect families’ with dads, complaining about how your life isn’t like theirs.

But you, your own mother and I, we’re like a perfect little family in our own way, although it may not seem like it at the moment. We manage to have fun the three of us, in our little flat. Although things might seem up in the air and you have down days when you don’t want to get out of bed, as a mum you’re going to do an amazing job.

  

As the decades pass, you and that relentlessly wailing infant become close friends. While many daughters avoid telephoning their mothers and are embarrassed by their parents'  dowdy appearance, she's immensely proud of you and always enjoys calling you up.  You’re a good laugh and ‘get’ her more than anyone else. Even when your own mother isn’t around anymore, you both go on to cherish that little family unit you once were, even though you're both now part of a bigger family. 

You have another daughter a decade later with the person who is your soul mate. You give your children hope that happy marriages do exist and teach them never to 'settle' for anything less. You never let them feel that they’ve failed you in any way. Your second daughter is just like you, drawing people to her with a magnetic personality and vibrant energy that I’ve always been in awe of. 

So enjoy being 30, you’ve got some fantastic years to come.

First off ...

In a very British manner, I'm going to start off with an apology. The design of this blog, as you can see, isn't quite, ahem, there yet, so you'll have to make do with the words for now, as that's what I'm more or less good at. Trying to work out how to make it look pretty and sparkly will have to come later ...

I've started many blogs and find it difficult to post every day so whoever is kind enough to be reading this, I won't be posting All The Time. That's what professional bloggers do - and do very well I might add. I'm not out to gain a massive readership, it's rather just a little space where I get to write what I want once in a while, let off a bit of steam momentarily and shout about products and places I might not otherwise get to write about elsewhere.

But the main reason I decided to have one last stab at this blogging schtick is that - as the title would suggest - I'm now creeping up to the big 3-0. I've noticed a lot of things change when you reach this age. The most obvious difference is physical.

You start to have less energy, your pores get larger, frown lines more pronounced. Thighs seem a little bit bumpier than before. Having been on the pill for most of my twenties, I've decided (as many women my age are seemingly doing) to come off it and give my body a rest from being pumped full of hormones. Which means my once-flawless (if I say so myself) skin has gone haywire, with my pores pumping out oil like there's no tomorrow. Hence a whole load of spot-causing bacteria has been having itself a big old party on my skin and causing all manner of mischief - tsk.

But on the upside, I've finally managed to carve some sort of career out of doing something I love, namely writing about beauty (and lifestyle-related shenanigans). I don't have half the hang ups I did 15 years ago, when I was desperately trying to get the body of Sarah Michelle Gellar (in the years since, my curves have yet to garner a single complaint). 'No,' I have to tell my 13-year-old self eagerly doing sit ups in front of Buffy The Vampire Slayer. 'You will never have washboard abs, but your legs are alright - plus you do eventually Get A Boyfriend anyway. Guess what? Being bigger than a Size 8 (or having that little roll of fat under your bra strap that you hate so much) does not make you repulsive to the opposite sex.' Yes, one plus point to getting older is not finally being able to afford liposuction, but instead mastering the art of Not Giving A Sh*t.

So this is about my attempts to be a bit healthier (not skinnier) and recommend products that work a little harder (but won't necessarily turn me into a peachy-faced 20 year old). This is an edit of my six years as a beauty writer - and almost two decades of using beauty products. Hence, while not strictly a 'beauty blog', you might find a scent or a lipstick that floats my boat. There might also be some snaps about my favourite places in London - where I've spent the majority of my life - especially since I've recently become a West Londoner (having left my beloved stomping ground of Finsbury Park last year).

Added to this will be my general thoughts and feelings on approaching the big 3-0. No I never took a 'gep yah' to travel the world, nor haven I jumped out of a plane (and don't have any inclination to ...)  but there are other things in my life I'm proud of or am looking to get around to in the next few years. I might even resurrect an odd post from previous blogs you might want to have a little look at. Do pop in occasionally, or tweet me if there's a beauty query you'd like some advice on or if you think this blog's just a bit crap (sob!) Until next time ...