It’s no wonder teenagers have bedrooms filled with useless beauty products | Amanda Blair

Old cynics like me know it’s all smoke and mirrors but we still spend a small fortune and feel good about it, writes Amanda Blair.

At some stage, probably just before the melatonin kicked in and Mr Sandman sent me a dream, I must have typed the words “I’m a middle aged hag” into my phone.

Because when I awoke my “feed” was filled with testimonials from women who claimed to be in their 50s banging on about how their skin is smoother, hair shinier, nails stronger, eyes brighter and breasts perkier after treating their cellular chemistry and recalibrating their body’s natural meta-influencers (or other word salads) simply by drinking/eating/moisturising with (insert “amazing” product).

On and on and on they went, informing me that the skin on my neck aged faster than the skin on my face, so they suggested I get a “neck firming serum” to fix it.

I was concerned to think people might look at my 56 year old face and be disconcerted by my 92 year old neck.

Clearly the purchase of this “serum” was in the public interest.

Supplements, apparently I needed them all now that I was over 50 – creatine, magnesium, vitamin.

D, B, folate, lion’s mane, evening primrose, collagen, peptides, more collagen, protein, ashwagandha, reishi, zinc and magnesium.

Oh and collagen, more collagen.

Without it my skin was going to deflate like an old party balloon and I’d be left sad, dry and most probably alone at parties.

These supplements would make my skin “plump”, “shiny” and a word that’s makes most men uncomfortable — “moist”.

Greens — if I had some in a shake/smoothie in a non-dairy milk (or water if watching calories) I’d get a reduction in bloating, a clearer mind, I’d be more focused, have more energy and a better sleep.

Sleep! Oh the luxury.

Getting enough/not getting enough has become something of a preoccupation, the first words to husband each morning, “How was your sleep?” reinforcing how old and boring I’ve become.

Perhaps the green stuff would cure me and if I got the Elle McPherson one my legs might suddenly elongate.

She said she’d lost her “looks” but got them back thanks to her green smoothies …. well ….no harm trying.

Elle McPherson “lost her looks” but found them again in a bottle of green stuff that you can buy.

Beyonce and her daughter Blue Ivy Carter looking a million bucks at The 67th Annual Grammy Awards. Picture: Specker/CBS via Getty Images

I needed to smear beef fat on my face and buy a satin bonnet for my hair because if I just let it out on my pillow like I’ve been doing like, my whole life, it might cause hair “friction” and my hair might suddenly SNAP OFF. For real.

I fell into the rabbit hole hard. I never thought I would, proud of how I largely ignored the beauty business believing there’s bigger things to worry about, it’s who you are not how you look that matters.

But they got me when I was vulnerable, feeling low, invisible and well, old.

Upside, my products arrived so often over the next few weeks that the postman and I almost became houseboat ready.

So it’s no wonder my teenage daughters and their friends have bedrooms filled with useless products.

School can’t be attended unless you put on concealer, blush, highlighter, bronzer, contour stick, eyelash curler, lip liner, primer, long lash mascara and my fave — eyebrow gel.

They’ve told me it’s important the “brows” are brushed and held in place.

This upsets me because they are too young to know all these testimonials by gorgeous young things are marketing levers designed to get their cash.

Their lives won’t be better with well brushed eyebrows.

Old cynics like me know it’s all smoke and mirrors and that when they say “clinically and “scientifically proven” it’s as legit as the old “Ponds Institute” my grandmas face cream came from back in the 1970s.

So am I “glowing” yet?

Have I turned back the clock? Am I “moist”?

No, but I feel better paying some attention to myself, recognising that it might be prudent to consider my health more often.

I spent a small fortune, but when I sidle up to the barista at the coffee shop and order an “iced oat latte” sardonically mentioning that I’m on a “wellness journey” … it’s worth every cent.

Originally published as It’s no wonder teenagers have bedrooms filled with useless beauty products | Amanda Blair