Mirror, Mirror, On Da Wall

They say Cleopatra used to bathe in milk and honey to stay beautiful. One assumes she stank of decomposing cheese after a couple of days and was constantly followed by a swarm of bees.

Terri Hatcher apparently bathes in wine. Clearly a woman of alcoholic tendencies who doesn't need to pull the plug afterwards but lies there, hiccoughing and laughing at the décor, whilst sucking the bath empty through a straw. So booze is obviously the answer - stay pissed and incapable of focusing on the wrinkles and grey hair is the way to go.

Anna Friel uses frozen spoons to 'pop on her eyes after a night out to reduce puffiness'. It may well reduce post-club swelling, but surely icy metal is apt to stick to the skin? Poor woman will lose her eyelids if she's not careful, instantly achieving the Marti Feldman look.

Shania Twain favours a cream that farmer's use on cows to keep their udders supple. Uh huh. Who says superstars don't have a firm grip on reality, eh?

Then there's inner beauty, as dictated by the waspish, stringy, witch-woman known as Gillian McKeith. If ever there was a deterrent to eating healthily, she's it. Sure, devouring truckloads of beans can make you thinner, but your friends will desert you in droves when you disappear inside a smog of noxious gasses.

Real beauty comes from the inside, they say, which is comforting to those of us who don't look like Kate Moss. But I find being delusional works best - body dysmorphia is a wunnerful thang. Whenever I look in the mirror I see Catherine Zeta Jones staring back at me. No, really. And I can easily convince myself that the clashing rags I threw on this morning, in the dark, whilst still unconscious, are very 'hip and trendy' - psychedelic bag lady is sure to become fashionable at some point, I tell myself.

Decrepit eyesight is also a bonus. I whip off my spectacles, take three steps back from the mirror and, hey presto, I can be any glamorous film star I like (squinting might be required, although if I've taken my glasses off I'm usually squinting anyway, and squinting causes wrinkles, so closing curtains and turning off lights is probably a better option, but then I tend to trip over things in the dark and I don't fall well any more, what with the worry about hip replacements and everything).

It's what's on the inside that counts, they tell you, and you breathe a sigh of relief because the outside's taken a few batterings over the years, but thankfully clothes cover a multitude of sins.

Gok Wan believes in wearing a Big Belt. If it's big enough you can enclose most of your body within it and walk around like one of those tubular liquorice allsorts topped with a face.

Trinny and Suzanna seem to think clothes will transform your life, because they're clearly delusional. The act of shopping for said clothes will make you feel suicidal, and unless you particularly like the shrink-wrapped-sausage look you're not going to find much above a size 12. The most common dress size is 16 (as sashayed by Marilyn Monroe), but shops don't like to stock it, preferring to sell all their miniature clothes in sales. Odd

My personal beauty regime? I just make sure I take off all my makeup every night, because I hate seeing my own face on the pillow in the morning.

Brummie Broad: Here every Tuesday
Brummie Blogs: There rest of time