I'm not quite sure how far I got through this book before hurling it across the room in fury. To put it very mildly, it is not my sort of thing at all.

I quite enjoy the series Grumpy Old Men when there's half an hour to waste, and, having seen clips of Grumpy Old Women, though not the thing itself, I think I would enjoy that too, but this whole book is a misnomer, set to con you out of your cash for one thing while serving you up with something else.

For starters, despite all their pictures being on the front you won't find any quotes in it from any of the GOW participants, which might actually have been worth reading. What it actually is, is a work of fiction by Judith Holder along the lines of Bridget Jones' Diary (another godawful waste of trees) but this time, it's life seen through the lens of a woman in her late 40s. A publisher's idea of how to make a fast buck, if ever I saw one.

I dunno, maybe I'm weird, but at 45 and therefore supposedly firmly middle-aged, I can't find any common ground with this book. In Diary of a GOW, the author copes with embarrassing hot flushes (haven't had one yet), grey hairs (ditto), shapewear (it's perfectly comfortable - what's the problem here?), her two indifferent teenage daughters, one of whom is about to leave for college (I have no kids); her husband, otherwise known as the GOM (mine is just about the only person I can tolerate for an extended length of time), her awful boss Jocasta (I'm self-employed and probably unemployable), her grief for her dead father (my feelings about mine are a lot more ambivalent), and her recently widowed mother (mine's dead and I feel a lot freer for it). 

OK: maybe my life is a tad odd. I live in a medieval manoir, picking the weevils out of the biscuits and grizzling about the world. And Holder's issues are all fair cop as issues go, but the problem is, everything in this book is a cliche, disingenuously calculated to bring a tear to the eye or a sigh to the heart of the 'average' reader rather than having anything to actually SAY about anything. It is a fake.

The other characters are complete cardboard, from the young, sexy boss who does fuck all at work (so, we should all hate young people, should we? As if we are entitled to seniority by mere virtue of our age rather than actually having any ability), to the mother who is undone by her spouse's death but discovers her hidden talents at creative writing class (oh don't make me throw up -  like most women, my mother remained just as bloody annoying after dad died as she'd done before).

Chuck in a nice dose of author's guilt at being a career woman (give me a break), her wittering about her grey hairs, widening midriff and inability to do up the poppers on her corset (more cliched comic situations), and follow with some folksy distress at her daughter leaving for university (as if most parents weren't all too glad to be shot of their kids so they could turn their rooms into a mini-gym). Ye gods. It left me screaming for a dose of Florence King's kinderfeindlichkeit, which at least has the benefit of actually being amusing, if not politically correct.

It was as the GOW sees her daughter off to Ghana as if it was somewhere off the map, and the second mention of 'that lovely film Love Actually' - one of the most meretricious, scheming works ever to be foisted on an innocent public by that wanker Richard Curtis - that I actually lost my rag and literally threw the book across the room in a temper. I can't be bothered to read the rest - as the Italians say: "There's no thief like a bad book." It is time that you don't get back.

Can middle-aged women really do no better than this? Do we really have nothing better to say than aren't kittens cute, aren't babies adorable and won't it be sad when the children leave home? It is such pap. Where is the real anger and fear we feel at this age? Where is the understanding and wisdom that helps us to deal with it? Where is the real humour? Actually, come to think of it, it's in Florence King, so I suppose I'd better review her at some point.

Meanwhile, Diary of a GOW is a total waste of time and money - five stars on Amazon, though. You pays your money and you takes your chance.

It was my sister who turned me on to this product by leaving some behind for me the last time she visited.

Maybelline's mousse range covers several products, including blusher, eyeshadow and concealer, but here I'm looking at the foundation. 

The foundation comes in a heavy-bottomed glass container that gives a nice solid feel in the hand, but is rather too heavy to lug around with you all day in a handbag. If you're the type who likes to reapply foundation during the day (not my preference), you'll need to decant a portion of it into a smaller container.

The good thing about the container, though, is that it enables you to use only just as much product as you need. This makes it more user-friendly than liquid products in a tube or pump dispenser, where you can easily end up with excess, but it does mean that you repeatedly touch the product then seal it up again, so make sure your fingers are clean. You'll also be able to use every last scrap of product, which is something I approve of.  

The foundation is beautifully whippy in texture, like chocolate mousse, and you can apply it with fingers or a damp sponge - no special tool required. It blends like a dream and once on your skin, it dries to a fine, silky finish that doesn't feel like you're wearing makeup at all. I like this, as I hate the feel of makeup on my skin. It's a good foundation for women who don't like foundation, if you know what I mean.

I am a big fan of cream makeup products generally because they're kinder to an ageing skin than powders, which tend to collect in your wrinkles, and they're also easy to apply using your fingers - a must for women who aren't into twotting about with makeup application and also useful for anyone on the go, like me. This foundation also gives very good coverage, and evened out my blotchy, rosacea-prone skin very well, resulting in a smooth, even finish.

My only problem with it is that if your skin's already dry, then it's perhaps a tad too matte, which can make a complexion look rather dead. Either a good dollop of moisturiser underneath or a quick spritz with a water spray such as Evian afterwards can fix that problem, though. The blusher contains some sparkle, and this might be a worthy addition to the foundation range too.

I find I use hardly any of the product at one time - indeed, because I don't wear foundation every day, this will be well past its sell-by date before I use the whole jar, but it's moderately priced from supermarkets, so even if you used a pot a week there'd be no worries about it breaking the bank. 

On my first page-through, I was disappointed with this new book from Brenda Kinsel.

Kinsel's earlier book, 40 over 40, is a little gem - packed with information on how to dress well at the age of 40 and above. But for much of the way through this one, which is constructed as a month-long 'get yourself together' manual, I felt that it was stretching itself a bit thin.

40 over 40 was packed to the gills with information, and suffered a little from only having illustrations rather than photographs, and not very many of those. One felt that really it could have done with a larger format and more colour. Fashion Makeover has been given the larger format and more colour, but sadly it still doesn't have photographs.

It is a mistake, I think. A book of this sort is screaming for actual photography of actual people, especially before and after shots, of the kind used by Christopher Hopkins in Staging Your Comeback. This would make it much easier to visualise the concepts discussed. Some of the problem may be that Kinsel's clients are real people who don't want their pictures taken, but the publishers in this case should have suggested alternative subjects. It is hard to take people's advice seriously when you can't see the results - for all I know, they might look awful.

Also, although the text is all very whizzy, with lots of boxouts and style tips from supposed experts, the book seems overall to have less substance than 40 over 40. In short, the smaller book had more in it than I expected and this one had less. 

However, about three-quarters of the way through, I began to warm to it more, and I also began to realise that some of the reason for my coolness is cultural - I am a European, and we are a jaded lot. I have no truck with this homecoming-queen, cheeleadery, let's all go to camp kind of attitude you get in so many American books. I am not a clubbable person and the last thing I want to be is popular, so when I read a book I prefer a little more distance from my author. In this book, Kinsel gets right in the changing cubicle with you and dances around - in real life I would probably fetch her one. Going to 'beauty camp' is my idea of a nightmare, and I also very much doubt that you could do all this in a month.

So, what IS good about this book, since I have so far been so negative? Well, much of the ground is covered by 40 over 40, so if you've already read that, some of it may seem old hat. But when we get onto new things, they are really very striking and useful. For instance, the amount of contrast in your colouring is not something I have ever given conscious thought to, and it is like a lightbulb moment to suddenly realise that the REASON I look good in certain combinations of shades is because my skin and hair are low contrast.

I am fair-haired, with blonde streaks and I have paleish golden skin and freckles. My blue eyes, in monochrome, look about the same shade as my skin, as do my lips. So THIS is why, all these years, I've looked my best in low-contrast colour combinations - beige with khaki, taupe with cream, mushroom with pale blue. Aha. If I had Snow White colouring with black hair and white skin and red lips, I'd look better in combinations such as black and white, black and pink, white and red, but because of my low-contrast colouring, these wash me out. This is a very useful tip for future purchases.

Another good tip is to group your accessories by colour. I had never thought of this. All my necklaces are grouped together in one room, all my shoes together in another. I've never liked the idea of matchy-matchy accessories such as matching your shoes to your handbag, but grouping them in colour families in this way has shown up instantly where my gaps are - in coloured earrings, for instance (all of mine are variations on gold, silver and amber).  

A third excellent tip is to create 'beauty bundles'. I'm familiar with the idea of having a wardrobe of 'star pieces' and 'support pieces', because this is how you buy fabrics when you sew (one that 'speaks', two others that 'listen'), but the beauty bundle is a new idea for me. A beauty bundle, says Kinsel, should contain at least three items, preferably more, and you need only then add one or two things to it to create a complete outfit. For instance, one of her bundles is:

* A caramel-coloured double strand of pearls

* Nutmeg-coloured suede boots

* A leather clutch in shimmery caramel-brown

* A nutmeg-coloured duffel coat with a satin-lined hood

Another is:

* Blue-tinted sunglasses

* A big blue scarf

* Blue denim jacket 

A beauty bundle can be made up of all accessories, all main items or a mixture of both, and it sounds like a great basis for creating several small capsule wardrobes - a subject I'll cover another time. 

The sections on hair and beauty are really very good. Your 40s and above, believes Kinsel, are the time when you're going to have to get some professional help if you want to look your best and sadly (given my budget) I think she's right. When your eyebrows thin out, for instance, a professional will get them into shape much better than you can yourself. If your budget doesn't really stretch to having this done very often, my advice is to do it as a treat and then get yourself photographed in close-up so you can follow the line yourself at home in between salon treatments. This trick also works with hairstyles - pay good money the first time, then have yourself photographed front back and sides, and take the pictures to a hairdresser at a lower price point.

Her list of common makeup mistakes is bang on: visible concealer, too much blush, not enough blending, colour coding your eyeshadow to your outfit (like we were all taught back in the 80s, replacing the 'match your eyeshadow colour to your eye colour' school of 70s makeup).

She also makes the blindingly obvious remark that you shouldn't get your makeup advice at the makeup counter.  Doh - why did I not think of this? A 20-year-old sales assistant may know everything about the latest ranges, but she sure as hell doesn't know how to deal with crow's feet. Luckily, my makeup adviser (French pharmacies are wonderful...) is easily ten years older than me, and she knows whereof she speaks.

Kinsel also looks at how to make the day to night makeup shift, given that, as she points out, most of us are no longer spending our evenings under the strobe lights but are more likely to be in intimate situations where more subtlety is required.  

After I'd read through the book once, I went back and filled in all the tic-tac-toe grids as suggested, which was far more instructive than I'd expected. I thought I'd done all this in 40 over 40 but certain things really leapt out at me this time - my love of quality fabrics such as cashmere and silk; my obsession with uniqueness (the words 'unique' and 'hand-made' came up again and again); my preference for texture over colour.

However, listing the colours that I truly love has also helped me to narrow down my needs for the future. Surprisingly, although I have a lot of black clothes, black doesn't appear on the list, so maybe it is time to think of using less black in my wardrobe. But colours that did appear included ashes-of-roses, eau-de-nil, greige and pearl grey, which made me realise that over the years many of my most favourite items have contained one or all of these colours - a blouse I wore at school, the carnations at my father's funeral, a scarf I made from a kimono. I am also mad for all things brocade, and subtle metallics like old gold and pewter, which echoes my love for raku ceramics - among the 'favourite things' I listed in one of the exercises. 

So, having read the book again, I give it three and a half out of five stars. Not quite as punchy and energetic as 40 over 40 and it really does need photography, but, especially if you haven't read the former book, certainly a worthwhile exercise if you want to hone your look.

Iseree creams are stocked by the budget supermarket chain Lidl, and in my view, they are every bit as good as creams three times the price.

Before trying these, I was using L'Oreal's AgePerfect range of day and night creams, which I think are very good products, aimed at women in my age band. Using them, I saw real improvements to my skin. But with them costing nearly 12 euros a jar, and the Lidl products coming in at under two euros, i felt I had to give the latter a try.  

In fact, I have a feeling that with the Iseree creams, Lidl is specifically positioning itself against L'Oreal's AgePerfect and Revitalift ranges, as they come in pots exactly the same size and shape as the L'Oreal products, and in exactly the same type of white cardboard box with gold lettering. In no way are they cheap and nasty, as you might expect from a budget range. 

I chose Iseree Beauty Cream Sensitive Q10 for daytime, Iseree Beauty Anti-Wrinkle Night Cream Q10 for night, and Iseree Beauty Aqua Hydro Intensive Gel for dry-skin days. There's also Iseree Beauty Anti-Wrinkle Day Cream Q10 and a range of other creams, eye creams, exfoliators and cleansers. 

Inside the box, the jar for my daycream is pink frosted glass, while the jar for the night cream is dark blue glass (just like the L'Oreal). The 'intensive gel' comes in a pale blue jar. All look nice on your washstand, if you're concerned about this kind of thing, though personally I couldn't care less. 

All the creams have a light texture and are easily absorbed and pleasant-smelling (not too perfumed). The intensive gel is a darker cream colour than the other two and has little bits of blue gel floating about in it for the days when you want to convince yourself you've done something extra for your face. This one doesn't mention Q10 on the literature, so I assume it doesn't contain this magical anti-ageing ingredient.

Since I switched to the Iseree range I haven't noticed any change in my skin at all - it feels exactly the same as when I was using the L'Oreal products, and since a jar usually last me about eight weeks, that could be a saving of over 60 euros a year. Not much, but I'd pick it up if I found it in the street.

I've given these products four stars - I've knocked off one star because there's no mention of a sunscreen, whereas the L'Oreal products have an SPF of 15. During summer, I've been content to use the Iseree creams because I was wearing a factor 60 sunblock underneath, but for winter, if I can't guarantee protection for my skin, I'll either switch back to the L'Oreal, at least for daytime, or try out the Iseree ranges of creams in tubes, which have sunscreen but not Q10.  

The Wabi-Sabi House by Robin Griggs-Lawrence is quite simply the best book on interiors that I have ever read.

I still read this through several times a year and each time I find something new in it.  

Griggs-Lawrence is an editor who was at one time involved in writing about high-end homes for upmarket magazines, but this book is about far more than interiors. It mainly deals with attitude - your approach to your home, to your space, to finding time for your kids, to honesty, to genuineness, to not letting your life slip through your hands in pursuit of perfection. It takes detours through Japanese crafts, Japanese food, how the machine age has affected us, the tea ceremony and how to reflect the seasons in your way of life.

"To create a true wabi-sabi envronment," says Griggs Lawrence, "one must slowly strip away excess and learn to be satisfied living in the moment."

For me, this book was my first introduction to wabi-sabi, which I now try to practise as part of my everyday life. Wabi-sabi is the Japanese philosophy of impermanence and although approaching an 800-year old Zen philosophy via interiors might seem a bit trivial, it's actually a useful way to go about it because it enables you to immediately implement the ideas into your own life.

There are other, broader books on wabi-sabi and its application to the arts and to living, but perhaps none so attuned to the inherent difficulties that the average westerner, raised in the Hellenic tradition, might find with a philosophy like Zen. 

As an American, Griggs-Lawrence is keen to show the reader how to incorporate some difficult eastern concepts into a western life and how you can enrich your life and environment by doing so. To get her point across, she covers areas rarely dealt with in interiors books, such as noise (how to create a quieter, more restful home using white noise machines, soft furnishings, cork flooring etc); how to bring yourself into your home via craftwork, no matter how uncreative you think you are; learning to let go of status items; and even how to clean your house in an eco-friendly manner.

She pleads for people to stop hating their houses and seeing nothing but their bad points but to focus instead on their good points. She pleads for honesty and genuineness in interiors, for houses that are truly homes and that accommodate real life, for owning fewer things of better quality rather than houses full of junk. Every suggestion in this book that you can implement will make your home easier to live in.

In keeping with its author's aesthetic, the book is beautifully produced, on thick glossy paper and illustrated in wonderful soft shades of grey and sepia, and is a size and format that makes it a pleasure to handle.

Incidentally, some reviews on Amazon say that they found this book elitist, but I didn't. Yes, Griggs-Lawrence is keen on quality, but quality need not mean expense. Second-hand, vintage, home-made items don't cost the earth and bring a real feeling of uniqueness to your home, and even a well-made mass-produced item need make no apologies for itself. In practice, I believe wabi-sabi is as easy to achieve via Ikea as it is via antique fairs and craft shops - all that's required is to shift your attitude a little.