Lipstick turns into green eyeliner

ME gives me crazy dreams, cinematic, and it's a boring sin to tell your dreams to others - unless they are actually in them - but I'm telling you anyway. I was enrolled at an Italian university and needed photos, there was a booth across the road, and I put on lipstick but it was not lipstick but green eyeliner, no matter how many times I tried to smudge it off and reapply. Eventually, I said to the booth woman, I don't care, please take the photo anyway and she was not happy. I've started reading The Stranger in the Mirror by Jane Shilling, perhaps the dream comes from there. She was 47 when she started writing the book, a year younger than I am now (well, I'm only 48 and four months, I do, sadly, count the months now).

I love the cover, Shilling herself, posing naked, she looks fabulous.

I don't look my age - and I'm glad of that - though it's all down to genes and having to sleep a lot, not by being virtuous in any way. Still, I am my age and, in truth, the thought of middle-age creeping up horrifies me quietly, I think because it underlines that much of my adult life has been shaped by illness and it's honestly depressing to think back to what could have been - that's why I don't. I often think these days I have one foot in the well world and one foot in the ill world - am sure I've said this before - and I hop between them, constantly losing balance (although it probably appears that I am balancing more easily than I actually am).

I'm told The State of Me Kindle version is going up from 99p to £2.99, so if you want a bargain now's your chance (you can barely get a cup of coffee for £2.99, so it's still a bargain). My brother just gave me an Amazon voucher (he gifted me the Kindle, he's a real convert) and said - only half-joking - it's for e-books not shiny hardbacks. I've (slightly) guiltily just bought a shiny hardback cos it's not available in Kindle (and the paperback is not out 'til autumn). I've ordered 'On Being Ill', the essay by Virgina Woolf.

Shilling's book is full of lovely literary references - she speaks of the importance of the comfort to be found in reading fiction - and I was struck by Virginia's words, which she quotes: Considering how common illness is, how tremendous the spiritual change that it brings, how astonishing when the lights of health go down, the undiscovered countries that are then disclosed . . . when we think of this . . . it becomes strange indeed that illness has not taken its place with love and battle and jealousy among the prime themes of literature.

I was trying to say something similar here.

Why?

I like beauty products as much as the next person but why do the women in moisturiser adverts have to act as if they have been lobotomised? Are they really so easily excited by pentopeptides? It makes me NOT want to buy the brand in question.

To beauty or not to beauty...

I see that this advert for Olay has been banned on the grounds of shady scientific claims. I remember seeing it a while back and being offended by the line: Women who aren't ready for cosmetic injections constantly ask me to recommend a skin cream that really works... I can't deny that I'm happy I don't look my age, but to have it suggested that 'cosmetic injections' are something we all pencil in like dental appointments is just plain stupid. I also recall a recent online advert which featured an Olay iron ironing out the wrinkles - I can't find a link, just this photo - this seemed utterly tasteless since it was suggestive to me of an Amnesty International torture image more than anything else.