Photo: Getty

And So…Carrying on from Part 1 where I wrote about trying to outwit those beauty bloopers intent on giving our age away, I have another couple of tried and tested tricks you might like to know about…

Dot Cotton Lips. It’s a fact that as we get older our lips get thinner – and isn’t that sod’s law considering everything else we want to be thin gets fatter? It’s not fair and it’s not a good look, especially when they’re puckered too. And by that I don’t mean in a good way like ready for a snog, I mean thin crevices begin form and fray the once distinct and youthful lip line so it resembles a cat’s bum. Again, smoking is the main culprit here and if you do just one thing to towards keeping age at bay, it’s quitting the evil weed. Here’s the evidence in this pic…

TRICK: Get colour crafty and wear a shade that will give your lips a little puff of magic. Nude colours: peachy pinks and soft caramels, are much more flattering than dark or ultra bright shades on lips (and they make the teeth appear whiter too). Go for a sheer gloss or moisturising stain rather than a heavily pigmented lipstick which will stick to those unwanted lines like a fly to poo. A brilliant little must-have for your makeup bag is  Daniel Sandler’s Magic Wand, £10.50. Daniel, make up artist to the stars, developed this creamy/waxy pencil to fill in and smooth the surface of the lips so that lipstick keeps from bleeding.

Not saying you’ll get Angelina Jolie lips without visiting the surgeon but you can try Skin Doctor Instant Effect Perfect Pout, which has got some rave reviews and promises to give you a plumper, rosier kisser…it’s on my list!

Farrowed Forehead: All that serious contemplation throughout life might give us wisdom, but it also slaps blooming great rivers of wrinkles on the forehead! There’s no getting away from this one apart from succumbing to the needle but there’s a cunning little trick you might like to try…

TRICK: Botox Bangs! Sorry that I called a fringe ‘bangs’ but it alliterates really well with botox doesn’t it? Plus, in my house, due to watching Disney Channel and Nickelodeon, my Little Angel has become American through osmosis and didn’t even know what a ‘fringe’ was! To her, it’s bangs. And, according to my hairdresser, Vicky, cutting in bangs – or fringe – is a great way to freshen up your style and can make you look years younger. Unless you are ‘on trend’ to the nth degree, or under 30, you won’t be able to pull off a heavy fringe, so keep it soft and feathery like these in-the-know celebs of a certain age…

She bangs!

Photo:thebeautyboxsalon.com

Flirty fringe

But before you bite the bullet and go for a fringe, you could try a clip in fringe extension first.

Of course, there are lots of other signs of ageing that we can try to improve/hide if we have the time, money, effort or inclination. But, and here’s the biggie, don’t try too hard because it can draw unwanted attention to your flaws…

Photo: gofugyourself.com

Here’s Madonna, gorgeous in her fifties, but what did she say to herself before she left the house wearing this ensemble? Slinky dress? Check. Fishnets to show off slender legs? Check. Immaculate hair and makeup? Check. Oh, and leather fingerless gloves that look completely ridiculous with the rest of my outfit and draw attention to the fact that I’ve got old, wrinkly hands that I want to cover up. C-H-E-C-K!

And if you’ve tried it all but still hate what you see in the mirror, take two of these and check your reflection in a couple of hours – you’ll soon be looking a-m-a-z-i-n-g!

Cheers beautiful!

Another wrinkle? Noooooooo!

Photo: bbc.co.uk

On days (like every day) when I wake up, look in the mirror and gasp with horror at the arrival of another wrinkle around the eyes, another crinkle on the decolletage and further sagging of the skin, I imagine what the likes of eternally youthful beauties like  Jennifer Aniston or Heidi Klum would do? Would they do what I feel like doing – smack the mirror (hurt my hand) and go online to find a burka and balaclava ensemble to hide my hideousness away? Oh no, their perfect little digits would tap on their ‘cells’ to their team of make-up artists, facialists, cosmetic surgeons…or, looking at how they actually seem to be ageing backwards, perhaps it’s the embalmer they’ve got on speed dial?

But let’s not get bitter (God, I hate them!) Imagine how lovely it would be to have access to their beauty experts (and their bank accounts) but I haven’t and I haven’t yet found the shade of balaclava and burka that is me and so, this is how I cope with the bits I don’t like…Part 1*

1. Crinkly Decolletage – the posh, French word for chest sounds so much prettier, but French or English, it doesn’t stop it from looking crepey and sun damaged. What you can do to keep it looking smooth and youthful for as long as possible is to stay out of the sun (boring), cover it up (I’m not a nun) or smother it with factor 30 plus at all times. I do use a high SPF when my chest is on show and that’s probably saved me from some damage, but old Mother Nature (yeah, she’s a right mother *&!!*$) will eventually catch up with you (unless you’re Jen or Heids, of course) and crinkles will come whether you like it or not.

TRICK: Whatever the weather, a scarf knotted around the neck is a godsend, it looks stylish, can make a boring outfit pop and keeps your chest casually covered. Like so…

photo: socalfashionupdates.onsugar.com 

Another way of avoiding a tram lines on the chest is to avoid sleeping on your side or stomach as your boobs will flop/scrunch together (nice) and cause the flesh to crease. I’ve tried this but find it too difficult as lying on my front is my cosiest sleeping position, so I may have to invest in one of these Decolletage Pads which were invented by a Hollywood Makeup Artist…I’ll let you know how I get on.

2. Crow’s Feet – As the skin around the eyes is so delicate, it’s one of the first areas to show signs of ageing and aside from never venturing outside the door – ever – there’s no way to prevent them. Of course, there are ways of improving them or keeping them at bay as best you can and that’s by drinking plenty of water to keep the skin hydrated and to use a good eye cream. Oh yes, and most importantly, don’t smoke! Puffing away on a fag will reduce collagen so skin loses its elasticity as well as depleting your Vitamin C levels.  Beware…

Give up!

I love Liz Earle’s Superskin Eye & Lip Treatment, £26.50 because its naturally active ingredients such as West African shea butter, cranberry, rosehip and borage seed oils to leave the eye contours looking and feeling plumper, hydrated and brighter.

TRICK: This is one I nicked off those celebrities in the know and it works! You can’t beat a large pair of shades. Not only do they look cool and stylish and hide a multitude of ugliness like crow’s feet, bags, hungover blood shot eyes, but they protect the skin from the elements, preventing further damage. Gotta love those sunnies

Photo: People.com

For an evening, you can’t really wear your sunglasses inside unless a) you want to look like a tit or b) you’re Frankie Cocozza in cbb (in which case you are pulling off both a and b). So, I would suggest that before your foundation, you dab on a little ‘filler’ like L’Oreal Paris Studio Secrets Smoothing Resurfacing Primer, £14.29 with silicone oil which smooths and softens lines.

*PART 2 to follow soon!

Hey You Over There, Check out my Great Ass!

Last summer, everybody was going gaga about Pippa’s pert posterior at The Royal Wedding. Even my Pilates teacher had a newspaper cutting of Pippa’s butt (in clothes, obviously) on the wall of her studio. I think she was trying to motivate us, but looking at Pip’s buns of steel compared to my flabby muffins of misery, I gathered it would take a lot more than Pilates to lift my derriere. In fact a fork lift would have more of a chance.

However one year on…and no, I’m not going to tell you that after persevering with two Pilates classes a week for a year, I can now confidently walk – wobble free – down the beach in a thong. Couldn’t and wouldn’t (take note Peter Stringfellow!) but (and it’s – still – a rather big BUTT ) Pilates has definitely made a difference to my muscle tone all over – even if just a bit. I can notice that my tummy is tauter, the muscles in my legs look longer (if encased by a layer of cellulite that refuses to shift) and my bum is an eensy weensy bit peachier.

I used to think Pilates was a ‘soft option’ type of exercise, a bit airy fairy with lots of easy stretching, so a good option for the less fit. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Anny, our elfin, 40 something (with a 20 something body) Pilates teacher has taught Pilates to many big, burly athletes as well as professional dancers and in fact, the founder of Pilates, Joseph Pilates was a German boxer and gymnast who developed the exercise technique from that background. Concentrating on strengthening ‘the core’ muscles, it improves posture by mobilising the spine, teaches proper breath control and builds flexibility.You also become more aware of your body in everyday life; how you sit, stand and walk. And after a few months of classes, you suddenly realise why you might be getting those back pains and stiff hips and Pilates can help you improve those niggly areas.

So, all in all Pilates is a great body firming exercise with the added benefit of improving your posture (and just standing up straight can make you look half a stone lighter.) For us ladies post baby, it’s also important to mention how good Pilates is for strengthening the pelvic floor muscles – you might not be able to get a job popping out ping pong balls in Thailand, but you’ll be able to have a bounce on your child’s trampoline after a few glasses of wine without pretending that puddle is from your spilt wine!

NB: If you’re thinking of giving Pilates a chance, enrol in a local class or take a look at Pilates on the Go the new book by Pippa’s Pilates teacher, Margot Campbell. Go on, your bum will thank you for it!

It's time to Shuffle and Shine!

If you remember a couple of blogs ago, I mentioned how my mum’s slippers nearly drove me to distraction with the constant, annoying shuffling (love you really, mum). But, due to my eagle eyed sister who spied the little beauties above, I think I now have the problem solved!

So there you have it: no effort, comfortable cleaning…what’s not to love?!  Oh, but message to Stressed Husband, don’t go getting any silly ideas about my Valentine’s Day pressie…unless these shuffle and shine sensations come in your size.

I’m not asking to be a super stylish school run mum – I mean, who could ever live up to this:

She's an Elle of a girl! Photo: Splash

Or this!…

If she can't smile looking like this then what hope for us?!

I’m not saying I want to go back 20 years to when I was at my most fashionable supa-doopa- (well…I am, but I can’t…so let’s move on). All I’m saying is, these days my style vibe is much more crap-walk than catwalk.  BUT…I’m not going to dwell on it, I’m going to do something about it. And I’ve already made a start by finding these brilliant blogs that I’m sure are going to help me out of my style hell hole and into fashion shangri-la.

Firstly, we have to find our fashion staples which is going to be a lot easier now I’ve found The Online Stylist, written by 40 something Amanda who got my vote with the line ‘When translated to the everyday world, fashion needs to be relevant, wearable and attainable‘. Here here!

I also clapped with joy when I found (again 40 something) Sharron’s brilliant Fab At Any Age blog.  I just  knew she would be the girl for me when I read ’I adore leopard print and lipgloss and am rarely seen without Chanel nail polish.’ You and me both, girlfriend!

I’m pleased to say I’ve already picked up a wealth of clever fashion advice from these blogs and love the fact that they both enjoy a touch of glamour and frivolity alongside practicality – as I do. I’m sure you’ll enjoy reading them as much as I do, and I hope that with their help, it won’t be long before the porridge in my wardrobe is replaced with yummy eye candy!

Time to breathe

I love my daily dog walk. I seldom feel like trudging around a muddy park in sub zero temperatures, throwing a slimy, dribbly tennis ball for my dog – who does? But once I’m actually there, I can guarantee my spirits will lift.  It’s a hidden gem of an hour because it’s never ‘just a dog walk’ – I get to appreciate the beauty of my surroundings and the changing of the seasons while taking a breather from the general manic-ness of my life. It’s a brilliant stress reliever.

It’s also fun to check out the other dog walkers – some of us are a stranger breed than the dogs we walk! Let me introduce you to…

* My Doggy Friends – I while away the time chatting to these perfectly friendly people about their dogs, their lives and the weather – and have done daily for almost three years now – but ask me what their names are and I draw a blank. I know all of their dogs names though, so it’s usually “Oh look, there’s Molly the humping Bulldog’s mummy.” It’s a bit reminiscent of the school playground really “Oh look, there’s Jilly with the nits’ mummy”

* New Doggy Owner - They never take their dog off the lead in case another dog might want – god forbid – to play with their dog. If they play they might get rough and little Trixiebelle might get hurt plus there’s all that bum smelling and other horrible dogs’ germ ridden dribble that might infect their precious, clean little bundle of fluff. As you walk past them and smile, they give you a nervous twitch and your dog a look that says ‘stay away from us you flee ridden, vicious wolf’. Listen New Dog Owner, don’t worry about your dog sniffing butts when you’ve got your head up yours! Get a life.

*The Professional Dog Walker – Considering the amount of money you can earn in some parts of London for dog walking, it’s a growing profession. I’ve already told Little Angel to forget her dreams of being a film director and become a dog walker instead – that way she’ll keep fit, have fun with her favourite animals and be able to keep me and SH in the style that we would like to be accustomed to! Our favourite dog walker is amazing and deserves every penny she gets – she’s like the Pied Piper of Dogs and is seen every day happily managing a pack of around 5 or more dogs. She’s cool.

* The Cuppaccino Clique – You’ll find this lot taking over the tables outside the park cafe, sipping on their flat whites while their dogs run amok under the tables, getting their leads entwined and knocking people over who are navigating their way to a clear table. They mostly wear a uniform of Barbour and Hunter wellies and they like a hat too. They chatter loudly in clipped tones about their mutts: “Poor little Dixie’s never been the same since he had ‘the snip’” But they lower their voice when they say ‘the snip’ just in case Dixie is listening. Dur! They are what you call real ‘doggy people’ and because I have a dog, I am considered their friend. We don’t mention the C word around them (shhh, c.a.t).

That’s just a small section of the dog walkers in my park. Oh, I forgot to add…

* Owner without a Clue – You’ll see their dogs bounding like bonkers all over the place and never coming back when they’re called (obviously never been to dog training classes tut tut!) These dogs run up behind unsuspecting walkers and goose them, leaving long strands of slober dangling off the shocked walker’s coat. These type of owners are usually oblivious to the trauma and chaos their dogs are causing because they’re too busy looking at what everybody else and their dogs are doing. Bloody nosey people. Hmm, can you guess what category I come under?

You smell great!

Can't Call in Sick to the Family!

“I’m taking a sickie” I said to Stressed Husband from under the duvet this morning. Actually, I didn’t. It was more like “I’m daking a dickie” due to blocked nose and face snuffled into pillow – well, it was the only way I could plug up the nostils throughout the night after having gone through a roll of toilet paper. I know – eeew!

SH’s panic stricken face appeared around the bathroom door, hair like a cocateu, toothbrush in mouth. “bot byu bee?” Then he took the toothbrush out and asked “What? After the kids have got off to school, right?”  God forbid he might need to delay his meeting until later in the day to make sure the Writeonmum troupe get off okay. As he watched me slump my sweaty, aching body from the bed, his expression became less panicky and he set about bigging up the importance of the meeting he has in an hour’s time…”You know I would tell you to stay in bed if it wasn’t so imperative I be there this morning, don’t you darling?” I smile lamely, get on my slippers and do a spot of shuffling (I take after my mum, y’know).

In the kitchen, SH goes to give me a kiss – looks at my watery eyes, cracked lips and face resembling a sweaty beetroot and turns it into a pat on the shoulder instead before striding purposefully out of the door, promising to be home early. As I’m looking around for the coffee – I need coffee – Mean Teen breezes into the kitchen looking glam and tanned (TOWIE has a lot to answer for – where have all our pale and interesting English Roses gone? They’re all doing the Towie tango!) She looks at me and stops dead in her tracks “Ooh mummy. You look bad. I mean, like, really bad!” Against you sweetheart? No shit Sherlock. “I know, I’m a beauty. I’ve got a cold love and I need a coffee.”  But she’s backing away towards the door, sequin beanie jauntily perched on long, blonde hair, looking the picture of health. Muscial Theatre practice calling her… “Oh soz mummy, I just drank the last bit. Get better…I love you.” S-L-A-M. Love you too.

Then I remember, buggeryshit, it’s recycling day. I open the larder/recycling cubpoard and watch helplessly as a week’s worth of papers, bottles, plastics come tumbling out along with a big can of beans that bounces up and whacks my ankle bone. Ouch! As my nose begins its first trickle of the day, I leave the heap of rubbish on floor and reach for the tissues while big, bouncy Troy, on hearing the commotion in the kitchen, comes rushing from ‘his’ cosy sofa and thinks it’s a great game to pick up bits of paper and plastic bottles and bound around the house ripping them to shreds! Nooooooo!!

My Boy and Little Angel appear in the kitchen now, “Can I have a bagel mum” enquires Little Angel sweetly. “And please may I have some Crunchy Nut” My Boy adds.  And as I stand in the mound of recycling, watching the mad dog eat a whole Heat magazine it suddenly dawns on me “There is no such thing as a Sick Day for mums” is there?

You've Got to Love Them!

So, early this morning, my mum and dad (nanny and grandad P) flew back home to Spain after living with the Writeonmum family for 2 months…yes, that’s right – TWO WHOLE MONTHS!! It has been a funny old, surreal 8 weeks of ups and downs: laughter, cuddles and kisses, drinking, Christmassy merriment and fond trips down memory lane but there’s also been some tears, grumps, lip biting and general pulling my bloody hair out in frustration moments. Well, could you, as an adult with your own family, live with your parents for two months without it getting a little bumpy along the way? And what’s more, could your husband cope with your parents for two months? Well, big bloody pat on the back (and payments in kind ) for Stressed Husband because he did it with dignity – and lots of nipping out of the house – late nights at work, walking the dog and trips to the gym – he’s never been so blooming fit! While they lived with us, we were a family of 7:  Nanny and Grandad P,  Mean Teen (who – I wouldn’t say willingly – gave up her room for them and shared with Little Angel), My Boy, me and SH and our big, bouncy black labrador, Troy. Cosy for a mid sized semi detached 4 bed house? Or cramped?  Depended on how we all got along that day.  Here’s what I thought:

What I loved about the last 2 months:

* Watching the kids bond with nanny and grandad in a much deeper way than could ever be achieved with a quick Sunday visit.

* Noticing that mum and dad have been together for almost 50 years and yet they still adore each other.

* Watching my dad get fitter each day as he recovered from his heart operation and enjoying making Troy’s daily walk his job.

* Nanny being able to get the kids to eat their veg, tidy their rooms and get up in the morning much more easily that I could ever do. Her tactic was to be sweet old nanny, mine is being mad faced mum.

* Babysitters on hand whenever – result!

* How they called our laptops ‘machines’  They would peer over my shoulder while I was on the computer and muse “Cor, look at what those machines can do! tut tut, can you believe it? Bloody marvellous.”

What I didn’t love that much about the last 2 months

* Nan’s early morning fag. She might have blown the smoke outside the back door but the smell still wafted to our room at the top of the house and was my early morning wake up pong for the last 8 weeks.

* Shuffling! Argh. The noise of shuffling slippers across smooth wooden floors grated on the nerves big time…especially when I was working and wanted peace and quiet!

* Me and SH being relegated to the other sofa because mum and dad nabbed our favourite  - it made watching TV that little bit less comfortable. Mind you, who wants to watch TV when the most exciting viewing we’ve had for two months was The Life and Times of ukulele playing George Formby. (Grandad to Mean Teen: “Better than that stupid Essex thing on the other side isn’t it?” Mean Teen: NO Grandad It’s not actually! Well, that’s what she was thinking, but what she really said was: “Erm, yes, it’s great Grandad…*fixed grin*).

* Grandad’s talking, whistling and singing through anything that we might want to watch on TV…until we turned over to his George Formby type programmes and he’s suddenly nice and quiet!

* Nan and Grandad getting all stressed when one of our mobiles would beep with a text/email (God forbid my mobile should ring and I wasn’t there to answer it!) Mum’s shuffling would go into overdrive as she tried to locate beeping phone and dad would stop doing his crossword until whoevers phone was beeping was safely handed to its owner. “Well, it could have been something important” No mum. When I’m taking a shower upstairs and I’ve left my phone in the kitchen to charge, you do not need to shuffle up to my room, stand outside my bathroom door and shout that I need to get my phone quickly because it beeped. There is such thing as voicemail nowadays. And emails/texts do not need to be answered immediately – the phone won’t combust. I promise.

* Deafness. Ok, this isn’t their fault. And I will be the same one day. But how annoying is it when Little Angel shouts something to me down the stairs and I can hear it, but mum and dad both shout over each other “AY? WHAT? Who was that? Was it the little ‘un? Not sure. Could’ve been the television. What does she want? Is she okay?” Mum. Dad. Please. Stop it. I  heard her. It was the little ‘un. She called ME, she just wants a sandwich. That’s all. Please don’t panic.

Anyway, reading this blog post has made me realise there’s probably a blooming good comedy sitcom to be made out of the London born and bred extended family…Remember Grandad in Outnumbered? And Catherine Tate’s Nan? So funny because we recognise them in our own families or old people that we know. And thinking of some of the things my mum and dad have said or done over the past two months, no matter how annoying in real life, could be golden nuggets of TV brilliance. But when all is said and done, and mum and dad’s flight touches down in Malaga, I know they will be thinking happy thoughts of the times we’ve just shared together and I will be missing them and thinking the same…on my sofa, watching my programmes.

I started the New Year in a state of excitement  (actually, after getting in at 3.3am from a party of non-stop dancing, non-stop champagne quaffing, I actually started the New Year in a state) but that aside, after an extra large glass of ice-cold orange juice and an egg and bacon sarnie, I felt a bit better and the excitement began to bubble (along with my guts – but I won’t go into details about that). So, although I have been quiet on the blogging front for a few months, all has certainly not been quite in the Writeonmum household. No siree.

Me and Stressed Husband visited a few more property auctions with the idea of repeating what we did earlier in year: buying a flat, doing it up and selling it on. However, maybe it was fate, or maybe our hearts just weren’t really in it, but we got outbid on every property we went for and we weren’t prepared to up the ante. The savings we had to buy a flat as a project were slowly being used up on other things (holidays, children, shoes…) and that was one thing we said we must not do. ‘WE MUST NOT TOUCH OUR SAVINGS’ was the mantra we both used as we flicked through holiday websites and read about the latest ‘must try’ restaurant with heavenly food at blood sucking prices…But try as we might (and we are both a bit pathetic when it comes to being good with money – it’s just so much more fun to spend than save) the money began to dwindle and we began to panic.

That’s why we were so relieved and happy when our offer was accepted on a 3 bed property in my ideal location that, with a lot of work (and a lot of money) will be, I hope, the ideal family home for me, SH and our brood. So, we are going to get out of our rented place and into our own cosy home.

So, we hope to exchange and complete by the end of January and start work on it straight away…can’t wait to see the transformation and let you know all about the trials and tribulations of Project Home Sweet Home along the way!!

Now that’s it’s almost all over, do I still feel negative about carrying on the property developing business? Well, not really. We got a full asking price offer last week – from a cash buyer! So we are in the process of selling and I’ve just started looking for our next property. I’ve learnt so much from this – Project Learning Curve – that I’m looking forward to the next one. I shall call it Project Number Twos as I’m sure there’ll be a lot of that hitting the fan throughout the development!