19 August - Girl's Guide - random episodes

Darn, Tara Palmer-Tomkinson is in the Sunday Times punting her book of advice to naughty ladies. Damn it. I dole out the same stuff but couldn’t ever get a book deal for it as nobody would buy the advice of a nobody (well, we all know I’m a legend in my own little world but in terms of notoriety I’m not deluded). And yet for example some of her suggestions are part of my philosophy and those about holiday snaps are my credo exactly. I don’t accessorise with fatter friends to make me look better but I have used other bodies to shield me. I don’t hide behind deckchairs if someone brandishes a camera, but I certainly quickly grab the scarf or whatever it is that gets artfully draped around me and I do the three quarters turn a’ la red carpet. I forbid photos at the beginning of a holiday (beach ones) until one has acquired a little bit of colour, shed the fluid retention and a bit of flab and become more attractive. I’ve even converted Toph to this protocol by taking some unflattering pics. of him in red Speedos (yes I do allow them) at the start of Indian holiday where one notices the love handles, hint of man-boobs and assorted stomach flab (little but it was there) and compared these to pictures of tanned yoga god a the end.
I forbid pictures in harsh morning/lunch light and prefer afternoon softer hues. I believe in heels even if photo is from waist up as it gives you a better posture, in this, sadly I am with Vicky Beckham and Jlo, even Uma Thurman’s ankles look weird if she’s photographed walking barefoot on the sand so what hope for me? Hats are great accessories (and I don’t mean baseball caps) and you should always have lashes coated to look natural and always, always wear some kind of lip colour or gloss which catches the light. Makes all the difference and I’d go further to say white pencil for inside bottom eye lid and top of your lips. This year I lost my concealer and stupidly didn’t replace it on the beach so now all my summer photos display the pesky sun ‘stain’ on my cheek that I’ve yet to manage to remove. Bugger. And bugger T P-T, that’s my book you bitch.