Apparently, the latest beauty trend is nasal hair extensions.
It started as a joke with a beauty blogger putting false eyelashes around her nostrils but, excuse the pun here, it’s grown in popularity.
As someone who struggles with false eyelashes because they usually seem to end up positioned in the wrong direction, making me look like a myopic giraffe, I can’t imagine why I’d risk sticking the flipping things round my nose instead.
It would look like a spider had taken up residence in each nostril and sneezing would certainly be interesting.
Could this now be the death knell for nose hair clippers and the advent of a whole raft of gadgets like tiny little nose hair curlers, or nasal mascara?
GRITTED TEETH, SNARLING AND FAFFING – WE’VE GOT THE WARDROBE MAN IN
The Big Renovation Project has taken on a life of its own.
Now, instead of just bathrooms and kitchen, we’re virtually gutting the whole house and starting again.
As part of all this, we’re having custom-made fitted wardrobes.
I can’t tell you how excited I was. It was either that or stop buying more clothes – and that wasn’t likely to happen.
‘Don’t go to Ikea,’ I was told. ‘Get a specialist in.’
Now, maybe I’m naïve, but I thought that asking a well-known bespoke company to quote would be painless and quick.
The salesman – a nice chap who’d only been with the company a matter of weeks – began measuring up for our 2D plan.
He arrived at 10.30am but was still with us at 2.30pm!
By the time he’d taken root at my dining room table with his laptop and papers strewn about, my enthusiasm over new wardrobes waned and I rapidly lost the will to live.
We were then promised a surveyor would come to draw up a 3D render for us.
He also spent an inordinately long time with us, struggling to take measurements, faffing with the plans and even accidentally demolishing an existing rail full of clothes in his rush to get things done.
‘Don’t worry, I can always pick those up later’ I smiled, gritted teeth, snarling inwardly.
After much head scratching and saying things like ‘So what did the salesman actually mean here?’ as he pointed to the somewhat confusing plan, I had to remind him that I was simply the baffled customer, they were the experts so I didn’t have the faintest idea.
My entertaining afternoon ended with him promising to return with the salesman so we could all sit down and thrash it out together.
‘Just ignore me afterwards,’ he gaily interjected. ‘I’ll just sit here creating your render. You won’t even know I’m here.’
As he’s estimated an eye-watering four hours, I’m pretty sure he’s wrong about that.
It will be worth it in the end but, at the moment, trying to reassemble my rail, Ikea’s looking increasingly tempting...
PLEASE GIVE ME SPACE WHEN I’M PAYING FOR MY GROCERIES
I’m really intrigued as to why people in supermarkets feel the need to stand right in my pocket when I’m trying to pay.
Or worse, let their kids sidle up and stare intently at my every move while I’m punching in my pin number.
Maybe I’m just getting super-intolerant these days but when I’m behind someone paying, I try to leave a respectful gap.
In Waitrose the other day, the woman behind me was literally breathing on my shoulder.
I had to yank the pay machine as far as possible to the right to stop her gawping at my every move.
Talk about claustrophobic.
Maybe I should have asked her if she wanted to pay for my shopping too.