A culture writer argues that hair color is the most powerful anti aging tool, far more effective than Botox, and points to Melania Trump s state visit hairstyle as proof that styling can shape public perception of age. Alexandra Shulman writes that Melania s look was burnished bronze with mermaid curls tumbling over her shoulders, a detail that she says made the former first lady appear younger than her 55 years. While jewels, Dior outfits and even cosmetic tweaks may draw attention, it is the hair that she singles out as the defining factor in the impression of youth.
Shulman goes on to imagine the same hairstyle in grey and suggests that the illusion would vanish, leaving the wearer looking decades older. At 67, Shulman notes she is fortunate to have healthy, thick hair and visits her colorist at Hari s every four weeks. By each appointment there is roughly an inch of grey to cover, including a recent photo from above that showed a white patch at the parting. The question of letting hair revert to its natural colour comes up often, but she concludes there is no way that is happening. Her dark hair, she says, is who she is, and turning grey would be a dramatic and psychologically disturbing decision. The financial cost of maintaining that look is not small—roughly £3,000 a year.
The reflection on hair and aging opens into a broader conversation about how women manage public perception. Shulman writes about friends who have embraced grey in their late 50s and 60s, noting varied results. Some carry the look with the right skin tone or striking blue eyes; others appear washed out or drab. She cautions that badly dyed black hair can age a person, especially when worn long in a Morticia-esque style, and emphasizes that looking old is not an inevitability of aging—it's about how the color and contrast work with one s features. The piece circles back to a personal claim: aging is something to be accepted with grace, but for her the price of maintaining a certain image is worth it. She jokes about the decision as a personal trade off and underscores the emotional dimension of looking one s best while staying true to self.
The column then pivots to a broader pop culture thread, examining why narratives about women at war or in rivalry capture public imagination. Shulman notes that Amazon Prime s The Girlfriend, a psychological thriller about a doting mother and her son s girlfriend, has drawn interest precisely for its portrayal of female scheming and competition. The show stars Robin Wright, Laurie Davidson and Olivia Cooke, and the reviewer finds the premise a brisk exploration of how women contend with power, ambition and jealousy. The fascination with women s conflicts, she writes, is part of a larger cultural pattern: while male rivals such as William and Harry or Lachlan and James Murdoch attract attention, stories about women plotting against each other often resonate more deeply with audiences. The piece suggests this may reflect lingering stereotypes about female aggression, even as the cultural landscape becomes more accepting of women who are powerful and successful.
Shulman also looks at Victoria Beckham s growing presence in documentary form. She previews Beckham s Netflix project as sure to be a hoot, praising Beckham s humor and willingness to poke fun at herself. She recalls a Vogue-era memory of the former Spice Girl in a kitchen set with dirty dishes, noting Beckham s candid persona and her remark about not doing the washing up. The tone of the piece is light, but the strand remains clear: public figures who blend style with self awareness are compelling to audiences who crave both glamour and authenticity.
In a lighter turn, the column recounts a moment from the Trump visit that captured domestic life in public spectacle. Sir Keir Starmer and Lady Starmer were seated in the front row during a military parade, and as the King and Queen arrived, Sir Keir appeared momentarily distracted. Lady Starmer patted him on the thigh, a familiar wifely gesture that prompted him to rise with the rest of the audience. The anecdote underscores how intimate acts can play out in the glare of a formal moment, offering a human touch amid political and royal pageantry.
The closing note is personal and practical: a tribute to a bistro corkscrew that has endured for decades. The author reflects on the value of a dependable, well-made tool—the kind that outlasts flashier, pricier gadgets—and notes her own wooden corkscrew has been reliable for more than 40 years. In a culture obsessed with novelty, the piece suggests a quiet reverence for enduring objects that quietly support everyday life.
Taken together, the column weaves together themes of aging, beauty standards, and female agency in contemporary culture. It frames hair color and interior style as signals of personal identity as much as public image, while also exploring how entertainment narratives about women at odds with each other can captivate audiences. The reflection on public figures, fashion, and television underscores a broader cultural dialogue about what it means to keep pace with aging, to define one s own look, and to navigate the balance between glamour and authenticity in a media-driven world.