on it on your forehead and you have to guess what that name is by asking the other players lots of questions
about your identity – “am I a Hollywood superstar desperately clinging to youth?” – only you didn’t guess
the name, got drunk and forgot to take the post-it off. To avoid any awkwardness, I chose a night when I
knew I would be alone. I have some mystique left to preserve.
As I waited for sleep to overtake me, I scrolled through Frownie reviews online. The product has devoted
fans, some of whom were convinced that the benefits go beyond eternal beauty. One suggested that using
Frownies had reduced her tension headaches. That made sense. I decided to use that as my excuse if anyone
caught me wearing them.
When I first put the Frownies on, I couldn’t imagine being able to sleep in them but I actually got a very
good night. However upon waking, I wondered whether I’d made a terrible mistake by wearing the things
for a whole eight hours. The Frownies were still exactly where I’d left them the night before, as though
they’d been stuck onto my forehead with superglue rather than stamp adhesive. There was no way on earth
that something that clung so firmly was going to come off easily without taking a few layers of skin along
with it. Tentatively, I picked at the corner of the triangle on my right temple. It would not budge.
Even as I watched, the pink triangles started to fade. I peered closely at the mirror. I turned on a better light.
My lines! My lines were gone!
I had a meeting that morning. I was all but ready to cut myself a fringe, when I found the packaging leaflet
again and read the instructions properly. You can’t just go ripping Frownies off. You have to soak them
loose. Pressing a flannel to my forehead, I still did not trust that my old Hollywood experiment wasn’t about
to end in disaster. I remembered the time my friend Elaine stuck one of those suction cups you stick to
walls to her face for a jape. She had a big red bull’s-eye in the middle of her forehead for a week. I was going
to have a big red stripe for sure.
The Frownies began to slip and slide. I closed my eyes as I peeled them away. It hurt like hell. The leaflet
had warned that the Frownies might take some hair away with them as they came off but I had no idea my
forehead was that fluffy. I opened my eyes.
Yes, there were three pink triangles but even as I watched they started to fade and beneath them... I peered
closely at the mirror. I turned on a better light. My lines! My lines were gone!
Having carefully timed my first Frownie experience for a night when there was no one else in the house, I
had no one with whom to share the astonishing results. I was tempted to run next door and wake up my
neighbour Steve. I needed a witness. I had found the anti-ageing holy grail.
I spared Steve the wake-up call and remained in the bathroom, just staring at my forehead. I hadn’t seen it
look so unlined since 1992. But as the pink triangles finally faded away entirely, something else appeared in
their place. Like cracks appearing in drying plaster, the wrinkles were back. No deeper than before but alas
no less noticeable either.
So, Frownies. The perfect one-off wrinkle solution only if you can dash from bathroom to set and be ready
for your close-up in less than three minutes. Maybe an effective longer-term solution if you no longer care
what your partner sees when they climb into bed beside you and you’re prepared to wear them every night
for three years like beauty blogger Sissi Over40.
Or you could just accept the wrinkles like Gwyneth is going to and believe her when she says: “I think you
get to a point where it’s almost like your sort of pulchritude is waning in a way and your inner beauty is,