Whose bones on the throne?

 Cornwall.....

[With apologies to John Betjeman]

It’s awfully well done of Camilla

To think about all of our bones.

What a diligent, duchessly pillar

Of society’s fillies and crones!

Don’t diet!  she wisely advises,

Lest your BMD dwindle to dust.

Ignore skinny slebs in the glossies

Who infer that starvation’s a must….

Well, that’s enough of that. Sincerely though, thumbs up to the Senior Duch on embracing her role as President of the National Osteoporosis Society. As Crone’s know only too well, brittle bones are yet another post-menopausal risk we face - and yes, chronically poor nutrition in earlier life is a contributing factor.  As the Duch puts it in today’s Daily Wail, ‘the link between young girls, eating disorders and osteoporosis is a ticking timebomb,’ and magazines are to blame, she says. ‘You have all these glossy magazines which are read by young girls who then go on a diet and try to be thin to emulate the models they see,’ she believes, adding that mags bear a lot of responsibility in what they write.  Er, well yes, your Duchessness. Thanks for reminding us.  As a beauty journalist of some 40 years standing, I constantly curse my industry for having single-handedly caused national dysmorphia, if not our current anorexia epidemic. Or should that read obesity epidemic?  We in the UK do have the most shocking obesity figures in Europe after all….  

Reading the thoughts of  Chairwoman Camilla on the bus this morning (yes, I know I should have walked off my lard arse, but it was raining) made me wonder where was brittle anorexic fashion journalist Liz Jones? And bingo!  There she was, hating her bones and the business yet again on page 27.  No show without Punch, so they say. But moving swiftly to the crunch,call me a cynical old Crone but is the real baby elephant in Camilla’s room the increasingly willowy and winsome, glossy new Duchess of Dukan?  And do I detect a thinly-veiled swipe at old rival, Diana Superstar into the bargain?  Both have graced more magazine covers than Camilla’s had hot dinners. And do pardon my flimsiness, but I know whose bones I’d rather see on the throne. Now there's a ticking timebomb…..

.... or Cambridge?  You figure.

Keeping up appearances

Hold up:  Senior Crones will appreciate the reference to the bulldog clip

First, apologies for a summer of silence.  Crone has been deep in the throes of ministering to her nonagenarian mother, who sadly fell and broke her arm in July. Senior Crone is now doing tolerably well, but things remain a tad delicate.  Hey, well.  There comes a time in almost all our lives when mothercare takes on a poignant new spin. All the more reason then, to exploit instant and easy ways of putting a brave face on it, eh?

So I’m amused, but not surprised to read Mintel’s latest research has found that (daffy Liz Jones apart) UK women prefer skincare to surgery -  just a teensy 2% resort to the knife these days. Six in 10 women over 65 use products to look better for their age says Mintel, who conclude that taking pride in your looks isn’t just a youth thing.  Well, duh!!!  What planet do they live on? Every Crone worth her creams could have told them that. They go on to share that 57% of women aged 55-64 use skincare to sort out their wrinkles and fine lines and that anti-ageing moisturisers are top of the to-do list . Double duh!!! (Actually, in all my years of beauty writing, I’ve never actually embraced the physiological difference between a line and a wrinkle. Especially when they call them ‘fine’ lines. Are they posher than your bog-standard creases - sort of Waitrose-grade facial fissures? Is a line just wrinkle-in-waiting, like it’s queuing to star in its own close-up? Is one straight and deep and the other, well… crinkly?  Or is it all just marketing semantics…)

Whatever. The range that’s been helping to raise Crone’s spirits (and jowls) over the past weeks is Estée Lauder’s Resilience Lift Firming/Sculpting Collection.  The anti-sagging technology purports to tweak skin’s Sirtuins (so-called longevity genes) into ‘supporting’ collagen, laminin and elastin - proteins which keep skin firm and smooth. Whether Sirtuins actually do increase cell life is controversial - a new study at University College London now suggests they may not. But what Crone finds so uplifting is that Lauder’s refreshing pink Face and Neck Lotion feels reassuringly substantial. The Eye Cream brightens and de-bags without attacking her contact lenses - a rare thing, believe me!  But the real genius is Instant Action Lift Treatment - extra-tightening help dispensed from a flexy rubber spatula which, stroked over your worst nightmares, really does shrink them - albeit temporarily - like cling-film for your wrinkles. Or fine lines. And I swear it keeps my makeup looking braver for longer. Because let’s face it, Crone needs all the help she can get right now… 

• Estée Lauder Resilience Lift Firming/Sculpting Collection. Face and Neck Creme SPF15, and Lotion, both £58. Sculpting Eye Creme, £40. Night Face and Neck Creme, £60. Instant Lift Action Treatment, £45. At Estée Lauder counters nationwide and www.esteelauder.co.uk

Sweet smell of youth

Can a scent make you smell younger,  or does your good old favourite spray give your age away?  This vexing question occurred to Crone as she sniffed new versions of grand old classics currently gracing beauty counters now. 

Thanks to a generous puthering of iris, Chanel No.19 Poudré is a softer and more, well…powdery version of the 1971 original.  Ah, 1971.  Biba,  loons (remember falling over those ludicrous, flapping 22 inch flares?) and the sad demise of Coco Chanel, just months after her 87’th birthday the previous year. 

A green and gamine chypre, Chanel No.19 (Mlle Coco was born on 19^th August) became the bra-burning kid sister to grown-up aldehydic floral No.5.  Nothing sissy about this - Gauloises-puffing intellectuals loved No.19  for its bracing, tomboyish edge. It seems an irony then, that this pioneering ‘youth scent’ should be powdered down for a post-post feminist generation raised on amorphous  fruity florals. But Crone reluctantly admits that pumping up the iris (powdery bit) has put No.19 back on trend in a beautifully suave, easy-on-the-nose kind of way

Around the same time as No.19’s launch, Crone discovered Guerlain’s magnificent oriental, Shalimar.  Created in 1925, the year of the International Exhibition of Decorative Arts (Art Deco) in Paris, exotic Shalimar went perfectly with the ‘20s and ‘30s frocks Crone snapped up from Oxfam. (Can’t get them for love nor money, not even on Portobello these days!).  Crone’s beau de jour never failed to point out that the billows of vanilla reminded him of custard powder.  (Was she apple crumble of his eye? She didn’t stick around long enough to find out). Yet according to Guerlain nose Thierry Wasser, his 17-year-old neice found the original scent intimidating. Fair enough, beneath vanilla’s sweetness lurks a darker, more hormonal vibe.  Vanilla is, after all, an aphrodisiac - Jacques Guerlain used to say that he made Shalimar like an outrageously low-cut dress.  Wasser’s redesign, Shalimar Initial, is simpler, lighter, a little bit fruity and even more powdery.  It’s that iris riff again.

So the big question. If we loved the originals, will we embrace these new versions too? It’s been 85 years since the first Shalimar and 40 since No.19. During that time, many of the original ingredients used have now been restricted or banned.  So no, it’s not your hormones or failing sense of smell - your old favourite fragrance is almost certainly not what it once was.  Times have changed, too - and brighter, more vibrant new ingredients have given many old classics a new lease of life.  So can your scent make you smell  younger?  It’s worth a go…

• Chanel No.19 Poudré, 50ml Eau de Parfum, £61 available nationwide from July 15^th 

• Guerlain Shalimar Initial, 40ml Eau de Parfum, £37 available nationwide from August 1^st 

Liz accepts a lift?

Things are looking up for Liz. Think she's been photoshopped, too? 

Well, slap my thighs - 52 year-old Liz Jones has gone and had a facelift.  Gone is the familiar cat butt  scowl. Mooning out from today’s Daily Wail like a hyperventilating chipmunk are her newly wide eyes and preternaturally plumped skin. All courtesy of blepharoplasty, dermaroller, Botox and fillers, not to mention the lift itself.  Hmmm.  Let me get my calculator.  So that’ll be not a lot of change from £6,000, at my purposely conservative estimate.  That’s if she paid for all of it herself.  

For while she’s grease-lightening quick to bemoan the thousands she’s wasted on anti-ageing skincare -  ‘I used to spend £400 a month on creams and facials and nothing worked’ she trills - she’s curiously schtum about the price tag on her new improved fizz. And while she’s wagging a nibbled finger at the beauty editors she accuses of colluding with big name brands in the interests of advertising, Crone would love to learn how such a life-affirming newspaper feature actually came to pass.  Has Jones selflessly laid down her own flesh for a story?

But hey, that’s what she does.  Remember, this is the woman who sacrificed her marriage in the interests of truth and integrity and now has only four-legged friends to pay attention to her isolation, poverty, anorexia... Her emotional auto-evisceration is surely a lesson to us all. 

Don’t get me wrong, Crone’s all for sharing experience - it’s precisely what she’s done for the past 40 years.  Experience has, in fact, taught her that women who ‘do’ surgery rarely look younger, just tense and miserable about their age.  Surgery’s a high-maintenance programme. Liz Jones has now embarked on a costly process of Botox and filler top-ups which in time, may prove as great a financial burden as her extreme cream habit. Because there inevitably comes a point where reality leaves the house and takes with it the sense to see when enough is enough.  And while we're talking perspective - fix one thing and the rest looks odd. Jones has already noticed how crabby her hands are compared to that baby-smooth face…

So what’s next on her agenda?  Will she, like the French performance artist Orlan, embark on more shape-shifting ops in the name of her art?  Will her surgeon, Alex Karidis stitch her up with a perpetual 'Jack Nicholson does the Joker' grin? Oh, for the love of sanity,  give us the face cream…..

 Cat got your makeup?  The way she was 

Eye of the beholder

Oh, no Dell'Olio...

Couple of items in the Daily Wail caught Crone’s eye yesterday.  And she’s not just talking Nancy Dell’Olio’s braless beauties. Right below those untrussed puppies on the very same page, was a report that suggested women become invisible at 46. This bombshell comes courtesy of Clarivu Total Vision Correction, a lens replacement technique that corrects both long and short sightedness - a pesky visual oxymoron Crone knows only too well. Their poll of  2,000 women found that by the time we reach our mid-50s, many of us say we no longer attract admiring glances from strangers or compliments from blokes.  The rot sets in somewhere towards our late 40s, when a glitch in confidence isn’t helped by having to wear specs, the report states. 

So that’s the ‘soon-to-be-50’ Dell’Olio syndrome finally explained, then. A deficit in the chutzpah department is hardly the problem. Yet were she able to focus, she’d of course agree that after a certain age, uplift should come less courtesy of 6-inch Louboutin heels and more  from strategic underwiring.  The trim waist is enviable, granted.  But clearly visible nipples drooping over your cummerbund ain’t a good look, girl.  At least she’s had the sense not to flash a crinkly cleavage - if, in fact, she has one. Her toned arms could give Michelle O’s a run for their money and approaching their half century, the pins are more lissom that Crone's were at 12.  You might call this envy - but the thigh-high hemline looks desperately naff.  In the name of elegance, just because your bits are still loved up doesn’t justify getting them out for all and sundry. Thing is, Nancy has a truly beautiful face that’s often rendered invisible by her truly blinding lack of taste. Compared to the old tousle, the short hair is a chic move - classic and fresh at the same time.  Now she’s moving in more artistic circles, Crone would like to suggest Nancy lives up to her new role as muse by embracing that good old ‘less is more’ philosophy that always leaves 'em wanting, well.....more. 

Friend of Crone watching Murray v Nadal at Wimbledon has just squeaked she’s spotted Trevor Nunn in the crowd. Let’s hope Sunday morning tennis isn’t a feature of his courtship with Nancy. They’re oddly matched in the first place, but imagining her outfit’s a call too eye-watering even for Crone. 

Staycation, fakation...

Well, it’s two days past the solstice and the sun’s still playing hard to get.  As we speak, a billowing grey mass of cumulus is obliterating the shard of great blue yonder Crone can just about spy through her window. Going, going….  If ever a break clause was needed, it’s now.  But, like the 40% of stay-at-home Brits outed in the press this week, Crone’s coffers are the driest thing about this summer’s long term forecast.  Looks like a fakation’s the only resort… 

Happily, the inconceivable has actually occurred - Crone has finally found a self-tanner she likes. Not that it comes cheap. Costing twice the price of an Easy Jet fare to the Costas but perhaps more dependable, Perricone’s No Sun Tanner’s virtually foolproof.  Just a smidgen of tan developer DHA (dihydroxyacetone) in the mix gives Crone’s beyond-the-pale limbs a subtle and convincing golden glow. The formula, designed to be built up successively (although Crone finds a single application does her nicely for three to four days) is creamy and easy to apply evenly, so streaking’s minimal if at all. Mind you, Crone doesn’t hedge her bets.  A serious buff around knees, elbows and ankles with an exfoliating Japanese wash cloth seems to avert those hideous orange stains that so characterise d-i-y do’s. And snapping on latex gloves not only looks professional, it gives a smoother finish that won’t Tango your palms. Most amazing of all though, is the lack of acrid, burnt biscuit whiff that makes so many fake tans visceral turn-offs. Okay, there’s a teensy hint of vanilla-ish something, but not enough to clash with your much-loved eau de quelque chose. 

However subtle, self-tans are strictly for bodies in Crone’s book. Faces, with their lines and wrinkles are tricky - then there’s the delicate matter of your eyes. (Sssh - but someone known to Crone tans her face  ritually, so her pores are like freckles and her skin looks seriously dingy!)  Coaxing a glow with a palette like Nars Blush Bronzer Trio is, on the other hand, a doddle. This little beauty co-ordinates best-selling shades white-gold highlighter Albatross with Laguna bronzer and thrillingly-named Orgasm blush to stunning effect. Don’t brush Laguna all over - just under your cheekbones, over your brow and along your jawline gives a sunny impression without overload. But after you’ve picked up colour with your brush, do buff it onto the back of your hand so the bristles are evenly coated. You’ll get a much lighter, subtler, easily-controlled effect on your face. Next buff Orgasm onto your cheek apples (smile if you’re not sure where they are) and without re-charging the brush, sweep it up onto your temples and browbones. Just a smidgen of Albatross highlighter swept over your cheekbones near your outer eye corners and finger-blended just under your brow arch and inner eye corners gives your whole face a lift.

The sun protection is, of course wishful thinking. But should we ever feel those hot rays again, Nivea’s Invisible SPF50 spray and handbag-sized SPF30 are simply genius blue sky thinking. Now, must mow that lawn.  Oh, pass the Pimms, do…

 Wish you were here? Close your eyes and you're on Devon's jurassic coastline... 

 • Perricone MD No Sun Tanner, £50,  0800 917 8698 and www.perriconemd.co.uk

• Nars Limited Edition Blush Bronzer Trio, £39, Liberty and www.narscosmetics.co.uk

• Nivea Sun Invisible Protection SPF50, £16.84 and Pocket Size SPF30, £5.10, Boots and Superdrug.

What's it all about, algae? Why, our clean and pleasant sand...

 

Alright, alright. The puns are truly terrible, but Crone just couldn't resist. And there are worse things - so to business. This Wednesday June 8th^h was World’s Ocean Day, honouring our seas and all who swim and sail  them. Co-ordinated by the World Ocean Network and recognised by the UN, this annual celebration encourages us not only to enjoy marine bounties, but encourages us to consider what we can do to respect and protect our seas.

To this end, Crone shimmied down to shingly Whitstable with thalassotherapy (marine beauty) experts Thalgo, whose detoxifying, anti-ageing treatments based on mineral-rich Brittany algae she’s long admired.  The mission was a spot of intensive beach cleaning, so rubber gloves snapped purposefully on and brandishing telescopic pincers, under the watchful eye of Helen Bennington, Environmental Promotions Officer at Canterbury Council an intrepid team of beauty colleagues braved salty gusts and jibes of ‘Where’s yer tags?” (Helen’s more usual task forcers are young offenders on community service) and filled a minor mountain of bags with assorted crap. We then paid due honour to a deliciously slurpy, juicy lunch at the world-famous Whitstable Oyster Fishery Company’s beachside restaurant.  

Job well done?  Hmmm. Here’s the thing, Why, oh why did we need to scurry around picking up after people too cynical, selfish or stupid to take responsibility for their own detritus?  Are they blind?  Did they miss the strategically placed bins? Oh, don’t get me started. 

Much to Mr Crone’s dismay, rubbish dumping is becoming something of an obsession with Crone. But her mounting fury is proportionate to the rise in routine tipping Crone sees just walking down her own North London street. But what’s really harrowing is the casual desecration of wild and beautiful places by those who evidently enjoy them, then make damned sure no-one else - and that includes vulnerable wildlife - can. It’s as if, diminished by the grandeur and spirituality of nature, your average tip-head is compelled to assert themselves by making a mark with their crass calling card. Or am I over-intellectualising this? Sadly, I suspect the real reason is, they literally don’t give a toss. Call Crone a litter fascist, but zero tolerance is too cushy for ‘em.  People who dump trash are trash, I say.

Top of Crone’s hit list is dog walkers who feel they’ve done their bit by scooping a poop….then parking it, black bag and all, under the nearest tree. What a spectacularly mindless act of double-dumping.  Oh, a parcel! For me? Someone has to pick it up, don't they... Last summer as Crone wandered peacefully though Derbyshire’s verdant Dovedale (well, it was a weekday) she was horrified to see what looked like mutant Gothic bunnies dangling from riverside branches as if sinister votive offerings to the National Trust. Well, we found some of that at Whistable too, in spite of the clearly visible pooper bins…

Apoplectic? Moi? Moaning Crone had better go dowse her BP in a soothing  Thalgo algae soak before Mr Crone speed dials the paramedics. But she’ll leave you with a couple of final thoughts. An inscription on the wall of the Marine Display in the basement of the magnificent palm house at Kew Gardens brings it home how precious and delicate the interaction between marine, land - and human life really is. ‘Without algae there would be no life on earth, the seas would be sterile and the land uncolonised,’ it advises. After all, algae provide 50% of the earth’s oxygen and absorb copious amounts of carbon dioxide in a spectacularly generous gesture of give and take. World Ocean day reminds us that, unless we all want to be in the soup, it’s up to us to practise a bit of the old quid pro quo ourselves. Responsibility begins at home and cleaning up after ourselves - whether on streets, woods or beaches - is an excellent way to start.

Sea view?  Shame wrappers, tissues, tins and plastic bottles are now the benchmark 

The Yellow horned sea poppy (glaucium flavum) brightens shingly British shorelines. Pity ice cream tubs and plastic beer cups do too….

Who you calling rubbish?  The beach-cleaning team lead by Helen Bennington (check shirt) hard at it

                  Marion Green, Thalgo’s UK MD with unidentified plumbing objet trouvé

Bin there, done it. So why can't dumpers do the same?

Just so you know we scrub up well -  Thalgo’s detoxifying Bains Marins Thalassobath with Algae and stimulating Ocean Memory Deep Sea Scrub

               Sea you in the bar - the world-famous Whitstable Oyster Fishery Company HQ

                     Slipped down a treat - six of Whitstable’s finest native rock oysters on ice

• Thalgo is available in over 500 UK salons and spas. For stockists contact 0207 512 0872 or visit www.Thalgo.com

• The Whitstable Oyster Fishery Company, Royal Native Stores, Horsebridge Road, Whitstable, CT5 1BU. 01227 276 856 www.whitstableoystercompany.com

These little sweeties

Oh, I know.  Crone did a bit of a wince when she first saw these nail polishes. After all, bright comes as a bit of a shock after all those Chanel-a-like buffs and putties.  But then came the gauntlet moment.  Apparently, these juicy little Bourjois lacquers were made with the adventurous UK in mind, rather than the more precious Gallic market. Which made Crone think, well… French women may have chic stitched into their DNA, but we’re the one’s with the chutzpah. So, since toenails are the safest place to pilot a provocative (and let’s face it ,demanding) new colour, that’s where Crone’s flying the flag.  And although her teenage step-grand-daughter will almost inevitably inherit the chrome yellow option (shows up tough skin and cuticles!) Crone’s unaccountably taken quite a shine to the lime.  Followed closely by the violet.  But not together - that really would be trotters painted as piggies.

The giant jelly beans by the way - which just happened to match the polishes perfectly - come from the new range of party sweets offered by the beyond delicious Grocer on Elgin, in Elgin Crescent just off Portobello market and round the corner from Crone Central offices. These wickedly moreish munchables guaranteed to revive the inner child, set Crone thinking again. As this pesky recession trundles on, retailers reckon sales of old-fashioned sweets, puds and biscuits are rocketing. The positive cheer of simple pleasures?  Bourjois’ smiley, vynil-shiny  polishes with their chip-resistant 7-day finish could be just the pazzaz we need to get us through an uncertain summer.

• Bourjois So Lacque Ultra Shine, £5.99 available from June at Boots, boots.com and Superdrug (0800 269 836). Giant Jelly Beans 250g, £2.45 www.thegroceron.com

Just a little green...

Capturing scent’s sensory impact in words is one of the most challenging tasks a beauty hackette faces. Do you risk the Pseud’s Corner-style pretentiousness of waffling in fluent metaphysics like some farty pastiche of Proust? Try to sound impressive by talking aromachemicals and molecules? Or gush about the bottle because a hot designer label’s splashed across it?

Oh, let’s not lose the will to sniff. It’s Crone’s belief that emotional honesty’s the best policy. Never mind the label - how does the smell make you feel? That’s why right now, you’re gazing at a tranquil but hazy, green and pleasant summer evening scene, just as the dusk pixels down. (Actually, it’s Rutland Water in Leicestershire and the only thing missing from the frame is a long, cool Mojito but Crone was driving after all….)

So this was the image that flashed into Crone’s mind when fashionably edgy Maison Martin Margiela’s [untitled] l’eau arrived on her desk this week. A lighter,  more citrusy version of Margiela’s first [untitled]  Eau de Parfum (which, incidentally Crone adores) this fresh, slightly minty Eau de Toilette still has a tantalising dark side, thanks to a healthy whack of galbanum mixed with a deliciously dirty smidgen of patchouli. Now, galbanum is an intensely sappy, resinous gum with a slightly woody, mossy undertow which  is extracted from a fennel-like, Mediterranean umbelifer. In the tradition of Balmain’s fabulous 1945 classic Vent Vert, it gives scents an exhilarating rush of crushed leaves, while hinting at something much less immediate. 

For [untitled] eau, Perfumer Daniela Andrier (who incidentally is also responsible for a host of Prada ‘infusions’ including the lovely Iris) reckoned she ‘took the existing fragrance and drenched it in water making it even more invigorating and direct, while adding an element of mystery.’ Crone couldn’t put it better herself. She’s still not sure about Margiela’s strategically distressed designs - there comes a time when raw hems and unfinished edges just look dilatory. But if you fancy something green but not naïve, here’s your scent for summer.  Now about that studiedly minimalist bottle….

• Maison Martin Margiela [untitled] l’eau, £60 100ml Eau de Toilette, available exclusively at Selfridges from 23^rd May. 

Magic wands

As beauty legends go, Touche Éclat is up there with Eight Hour Cream and Chanel No.5. Perhaps the most copied make-up gismo in the business, this magic wand is the generic for highlighting click-pens.  Designed 20 years ago by the very sympathique Terry de Gunzburg (also creator of luxe range By Terry - a Crone favourite) when she was creative director at YSL, Touche Éclat is a maestro of multi-tasking that really does wake up grim and dingy-looking skin. Crone loves it’s instant eye-lift effect - a dot blended at inner and outer eye corners plus one for luck just under the brow arch lightens weary, blue-tinged shadows, hushes crow’s feet and generally perks up a dreary expression.  Blended around lip contours (with extra attention at the corners) it hides wrinkles, blocks lipstick bleed-off and visually plumps your pout. It can even help ‘soft focus’ smile and chin creases…

Ok, so Crone’s a fan - but she wasn’t at first. Like many of her contemporaries, she expected Touche Éclat to hide rather than hush her many blemishes. (True concealers rely on denser pigments which often contradict light-catching ones) Then there was the shade - a rather tricky pink which suited English rosy skin tones (the UK is traditionally Touche Éclat’s biggest fan base) but left more yellow-toned European skins - including, ironically typically French complexions - rather cold.

But now all that’s been sorted. Thanks to seismic leaps in pigment technology, Touche Éclat now comes in no less than seven shades of radiance to brighten and highlight all skintones - even ebony ones. The encouragingly coined ‘Ampli Light’ technology that makes this breakthrough possible has been nicked from the paint industry, where transparent, light-grabbing pigments are employed to give even deep colour an inner sheen, rather than a brash metallic finish.  

So to practicalities.  YSL’s Northern European makeup artist, Fred Letailleur advises us to finger-blend Touche Éclat for the most natural effect or use the built-in brush for intensified, ‘air-brushed’ radiance.  Mixed with foundation, it gives skin a subtle, all-over glow;  or swept on with a dampened blusher brush,  it gives cheekbones a diffused, heightened highlight or, if you brush a deeper shade underneath, a softly sculpting effect. Fred also mixes it with eyeshadow for a subtle sheeny, creamy. long-lasting finish. Which reminds me. One of Touche ´Éclat’s greatest virtues is its uncanny talent for neutralising red, crinkly-looking lids all on its own. And that really is a magic touch.

• Yves St Laurent Touche Éclat, £24.50, new shades previewing from May 19  in Selfridges, London, Manchester and Birmingham and Brown Thomas, Dublin, Cork, Limerick and Galway; launching nationwide on August 4.

Light bulb moment

Eureka!  Last week someone Crone hadn’t seen for well, must have been a couple of years at least, told her she was looking younger. Then, on the very same day, a colleague asked if she’d had Botox.  Not being a fan, she was able to raise an eyebrow. Why such glowing compliments?

Then I remembered I’d tried yet another ‘brightening’ serum for the first time that very morning. Now call me a cynical old Crone, I’m still not convinced that Estée Lauder’s new Even Skintone Illuminator can hog all the limelight on this one, but I’m willing to entertain its potential. This formula chucks the book at lacklustre complexions with instant glow-getting Triple Optics - three different grades of light deflecting pigments - that brighten, blur and even out blotchy, dingy-looking skin. Long term actives include sugar-derivative glucomsamine and vitamin C to ‘energise’ skin and gently exfoliate dark spots away, plus anti-irritants to help reduce and prevent redness. Now, this side of prescriptions and procedures, age spots are buggers to shift, so don’t expect rapid results from any strictly cosmetic formula. Really, your best bet’s prevention - an SPPF30 at least, which this serum doesn’t have because it’s designed to be worn under protective moisturiser. But the oil-free texture’s a silky dream and - ahem! - a brilliant base for makeup. (Crone’s wearing it under her trusty mineral powder foundation).  According to Lauder tests, it will take another week at the very least before Crone can expect to see any difference in the two brown splodges on her right cheek that she maintains for testing purposes. (Well, that’s her story…).  Yet already she’s inclined to agree with the 84% of women who agreed their skin appeared more even-toned. Perhaps the best thing about Even Skintone Illuminator, is that its well-balanced brightening optics suit all complexions, even black skin upon which some products leave a slimy-looking ashy film. Worth a glow? 

• Estée Lauder Idealist Even Skintone Illuminator, from £46. Previewing at Selfridges from 16^th May; nationwide and online at www.esteelauder.co.uk from 7^th June. 

Tan today, gone tomorrow

These are Crone’s pins.  She wishes.  Crone cannot claim to own the doubles for such uber-svelte limbs, although the current sunshine has tempted her to flash a diffident ankle. Dumping tights for bare flesh is surely one of the year’s most liberating events, but the ‘daring to bare’ bit’s a tough gig. Easing rite of passage this time round is Guerlain’s Jambes de Gazelle. Naturally, the high camp name made Crone cackle with mirth, but the press demonstration - by none other than ‘Tanning King’ James Read was unusually encouraging. Unlike smelly, streaky self tans which stain your ankles an inelegantly Wagtastic orange, here’s a sweetly-scented, realistically-tinted and - joy of joys - predictable product that promises  flattery without the faff. Wash-off tans like these put you in conrol - what you see is what you get and layering up to your individual ideal tone’s a doddle. Consequently, Crone’s normally ghostly limbs are temporarily sprayed a sheer, matt, light amber - the most convincing fake she’s found. How she loves this no-commitment, no-risk, no-Tango tanning. Might even wear a skirt tomorrow…..

• Guerlain Terracotta Cooling Bronzing Mist, £36 available nationwide

Dior’s new scent couture

Crone is loving the way Dior’s deftly managing nostalgia these days.  Last year, the house  showcased sublime vintage fragrances Diorella, Dioressence, Diorissimo and Eau Fraiche alongside new ‘eclusive’ Forever and Ever Dior in the Les Créations de Monsieur Dior collection. Now, in-house perfumer Francois Demachy unveils his five year tribute project, La Collection de Christian Dior at The Maison de Parfums on Selfridges’ ground floor. These days, fashion houses with any scents are keen to flaunt their heritage with ‘collections privés’ set apart from the masses. All ten of Dior’s reflect events in the house’s history and although brand new, pack a powerful old-school evocation. New Look 1947 is a woody tuberose bouquet that begs to be worn with a cinched waist and shoulder pads. The honeyed amber incense of Mitzah evokes Mitzah Bricard, Dior’s feline muse with a fondness for leopard prints. Soft, optimistic Milly-La-Forêt captures the mill house where Dior entertained artist friends, such as Jean Cocteau; while fresh, aromatic Granville echoes his childhood home in Normandy, built on a cliff overlooking the English Channel on one side and pines on the other. Cologne Royale is a gloriously citrus nod to the 18^th century cologne tradition and the elegant European courts that so influenced Dior. Ambre Nuit is a suavely strident amber-rose chypre, while Bois d’Argent is almost weepily soft and powdery with an iris and incense heart. Three masculine scents round up the collection, although anyone who likes their scents with a bit of welly will doubtless want to dabble.  Crone is strangely drawn to Eau Noire, a dark lavender and liquorice beauty that reminds her of a hot night in Provence. Vétiver is a caffeine-laced, leathery brew redolent of smoking rooms in gentlemen’s clubs of the 1930s; and Leather Oud is full of middle-eastern promise. Stuck for choice? The best time to choose a scent is before lunch, Francois Demachy advises. When you’re hungry, your sense of smell is keener.  When you’re full, it’s down the tubes. Sniff first, then succomb to Yo Sushi (just off the Food Hall) is Crone’s best counsel.

Fragrances in La Collection Christian Dior at The Maison de Parfums, Selfridges cost from £120 for 125ml. 

Push me, pull me lipstick

Back in the days before we twisted, remember push-up lipsticks?  Guerlain’s Creative Director Olivier Echaudemaison certainly does.  The story goes, he was poking about in the company archives when he dusted off an Art Deco  lippie from 1936 called Rouge Automatique. So far, so nostalgic. But the crafty thing about the fully automatic remake that’s just hit the counters, is you don’t even have to take the cap  off - because there isn’t one.  With the single-thumbed dexterity you’d apply to a cigarette lighter (to light your scented candle, of course….) just slide down the tab. The top folds back and the lippie pops up like a Jack-in-the-Box. This of course had CC in stitches at the press launch. Endless entertainment - you could evolve an entire repertoire of one-hand gestures with this slick little baby. ‘I love the game of makeup, so flirty, so seductive when a woman applies lipstick in public,’ effuses Ollie E. Quite so. But I suspect the main advantage is to facilitate multi-tasking - makes you wonder, in fact, why twist-ups were ever invented. The 25-strong shade palette is pretty fine, too - the fiery lacquer red below is called Nahema after Guerlain’s fulsomely spicy-oriental scent from 1979. Best of all, the sheer, vibrant colours have a non-oily finish that won’t creep into your crinkles.

• Guerlain Rouge Automatique, £24.50, available exclusively at Selfridges from 3^rd April and nationwide from 1^st May.

Welcome to Crafty Crone's Grown-up Beauty Blogspot

Twelve year-olds click off now. This site is uniquely dedicated to all good-looking baby boomers interested in staying that way with a little inspiration from news they can actually use.

As a magazine hackette of some forty years standing, The Crone has grown up with the beauty industry and all its promises, pitfalls and immeasurable progress. She’s seen cold creams morph into face-firming serums, powder cakes finesse into ultra-light mineral sheerness and blue eyeshadow evolve from sole option to one of thousands of far more flattering colour stories. And she’s watched - with an increasing vested interest - as the ‘anti-ageing’ imperative has overrun what used to be thought of as creative fun. And that’s why The Crone’s blogging now.

There’s a raft of information out there on how not to look your age, but a dearth on how to celebrate older looks. Most tips and advice you get in magazines, on the ‘net and at the beauty counter are contrived by younger women who, with the best will in the world, haven’t a clue how it actually feels to enter the Third Age, let alone ride the inevitable changes. Because it’s a bugger how theory begins to quail in the face of reality. Maybe makeup doesn’t go on like it used to, creams sink in or slide off and instead of zhooshing it up, styling stuff just makes your hair fall flat.

But are we disillusioned? Unlike our mothers, we’re the first generation to have grown up with the idea that beauty products are, in fact, a fundamental force in our daily lives. We love our lotions and potions - they’ve literally helped us keep our chin up and maintain a positive profile. And we’re not about to give up the quest for our new best beauty buys any time soon.

So here’s the deal to keep it real. Crafty Crone operates on a test and tell basis. If she, or her cronies haven’t tried it, she won’t waste your time. Neither will she tease you unnecessarily with blogs about products months before they arrive on counter. If she does, she promises to remind you when they do go on sale. Most of all, she vows to do it all with humour. Seriously though, beauty should be a pleasure, so let’s keep it fun.

Now, respect to these beautiful cronies:

Inès de la Fressange Once Chanel’s most iconic muse, now at 53, L’Oréal’s latest ambassadress.

Jane Birkin Hermès made this edgy old bag’s arm candy, Miller Harris created her scent. Not bad for 64.

Jane Fonda Shame about the lift. But the new fitness DVD makes 73 look pretty damned good…

Daphe Selfe Serenly beautiful and the world’s oldest supermodel at 82

The Sleeping Lady of Hal Saflieni, Malta, 3600-3000BC Enigmatic evidence that beauty is timeless and not necessarily a matter of thighs.