‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

‘LIKE SHREDDED MUSCLES OR A BIKINI WAX, IT REMINDS ME I’VE DONE SOME SERIOUS HOME IMPROVEMENTS’

You’re far too young for me.’ Dr Michael Prager – or ‘Mr Botox’, as he is known to insiders – knows the way to a woman’s heart. More importantly, he is honest about the treatments he offers, which is the first thing you should look for in a practitioner. It means he values my interests more than his own. In fact, I’m not ‘too young’ (37 is a respectable qualifying age for Botox), I just don’t particularly need it. Yet. This is surprising because – like most women I know – I really scrutinise myself in the mirror, and I’m sure I can see my life catching up with me every damned day. Also, I take drugs (medically prescribed, don’t panic), a side effect of which speeds up my collagen loss, so when the needle calls my name, I will answer without shame.

On the way out, I’m taken to a side room and told to pop up onto the bed, where my make-up is removed. ‘Oh, lovely, am I having a facial?’ I ask. I was not having a facial.

On the cosmeceutical spectrum of blissful to eye-watering, my unexpected Venus Nano Fractional treatment fell somewhere around ‘very sting-y’. That would be the radio-frequency currents traumatising my dermis, shocking my body into healing mode, which by some sorcery means – hooray! – plumper, tighter skin in a few days. The laser comes via a hand-held device called Venus Viva that sends currents deep into your skin via tiny metal pins. It causes ‘micro-wounds’, which encourage healing (sounds painful, really isn’t), and takes about 15 minutes. It’s a great resurfacing option for scarring, pigmentation or open pores.

Back in the office, I had the warm glow of secretive extreme anti-ageing in my belly. Which was nothing compared to the strong feeling of extreme sunburn radiating from my face. Call me a masochist, but I like it. Like shredded muscles or a bikini wax, it reminds me I’ve done some serious home improvements. I went slightly pink, then spent the next few mornings anticipating a new and improved reflection, but, like any positive change, it was so gradual, I barely noticed. Others did, though, in the form of my favourite brand of compliment – the vague: ‘Have you done something different with your make-up?’ and ‘You look really well.’

You might want to start smaller – dip a toe in, as it were – with Skin Laundry, a global chain pit-stop, for a quick laser and light facial, which blasts away facial bacteria for a serious clean. It feels very sexy, like you’re a proper grown-up investing in the future of your face, but it’s gentle, inexpensive and will make you glow.

Compared to laser or radiofrequency laser alternatives, skincare, being neither of the two, is like the over-achieving little sister. It works very hard to succeed without cheating, but doesn’t quite win the race. Make sense? Lancôme Visionnaire Crescendo is an effective at-home peel that does the resurfacing job of a gentle laser, while cosmetic doctor Frances Prenna Jones has a range of post-professional-treatment skincare called The Fixers, to help skin recuperate.

Try some or all the above and you, too, could fool a master of facial rejuvenation into thinking you don’t need him. The biggest vague compliment of all.