How far would you fake it for a date?
‘That’s trade descriptions!’ This was my hairdresser Kiki’s reaction when he saw the effects of my M&S ‘two sizes bigger’ bra*. For the uninitiated, this is an asset-amplifying miracle worker – a combination of padding and boulder-holder engineering that boosts you up by two cup sizes.
It was 2021 and Kiki – who, after 20-plus years together, is now my longest-standing male relationship – was prepping me for my first date with my current boyfriend. Kiki couldn’t help but notice that my embonpoint was considerably more substantial than usual. It pleasingly filled out my T-shirt, which had been chosen for its gauzy fabric that hinted at a come-hither cleavage. I liked to think of it as enhancement rather than deception. Simple asset management, if you will.
When I was thrown into the world of dating after my divorce, I realised quickly that there were differing levels of time and financial commitment when it came to preparation.
Level one is basic hygiene. Brush your teeth, wash your pits and bits, comb your hair and wear something with no visible stains.
Level two involves more effort. Wash and style hair, choose a flattering outfit, apply mascara and possibly concealer. If visible, make sure your toes are not too hobbit-like. When in a rush, though, you can just paint the bits of toenail protruding from sandals.
Level three is more costly and involved. A blow-dry, salon-fresh nails, a new outfit and a fragrance with mate-attracting pheromones (yes, they do exist).
You might think that level three is peak prep, but I tell you there is a whole world of beauty boosting beyond that. I thought of this with the deluge of award-season pictures hitting our screens over the past couple of months. The Golden Globes, Grammys, the Brits and, tomorrow, the Oscars. When I look at the stars cantilevered into their gowns, I know the painstaking process they go through to look their absolute best. As a stylist in my glossy magazine heyday, I was au fait with all the insider tricks. I have gaffer-taped Sarah Jessica Parker’s boobs to make them perkier. I got up in the middle of the night to ensure
Britney Spears’s hair extensions would arrive at a shoot before she did. I have used double-sided sticky tape to pin back a supermodel’s ears. And provided the chicken fillets to amp up Eva Herzigova’s famous cleavage (the Wonderbra model was not as well-endowed as you’d think).
The tricks are endless. Kim Kardashian has been known to wear not one but two layers of shapewear to hone the perfect silhouette. And I have encountered many an actress who refrains from salty food for days before an event (to avoid puffiness) and endures painful lymphatic drainage to eliminate bloating. Fake lashes and sculpting spray tans are standard.
Now, I did deploy some of these tactics pre-date, but in the real world they are not financially sustainable – nor conducive to romance. Run your fingers through my hair? No chance if I have extensions in. Peel off my underwear in the height of passion? Double Spanx would have even Bridget Jones’s Daniel Cleaver admitting defeat. ‘My God, is that a spider on the pillow?’ ‘Nope, just a fake eyelash, darling.’ And that golden hue? It just washed off in your shower and – ta-daah! – I’m the colour of corned beef and your towel looks like I had a ‘downstairs accident’.
Now it’s almost two years into my relationship and, readers, I’ve dialled right back to level two (occasionally one) with zero complaints. In fact, newsflash, he seems to like the real me better. The two-sizes-bigger bra languishes at the back of my drawer and The Boyfriend shows no disappointment about the reality beneath it.
Out of interest, I ask him what prep he did for our first date: ‘Fresh shirt and a shave.’
Enough said.
I LIKED TO THINK OF IT AS ENHANCEMENT RATHER THAN DECEPTION