W hen mirrors were invented they were quite indistinct, often just metal buffed to a high sheen — they gave a general impression but nothing too specific. The closest I can get to that now is by looking at myself without my glasses on. Nature has been kind; sans glasses I see everything in a flattering soft focus worthy of a romantic movie dream sequence.
But remaining in this happy fantasy is troublesome. I run the risk of the “Barbara Cartland in her later years” school of make-up application — looking as though I’ve coloured in my face using crayons while blindfolded. So I compensate with a magnifying mirror with an inbuilt light so powerful that the grid in Fulham dips momentarily every time I switch it on.
It forces the daily admission that there is such a thing as too much knowledge..