Cosmetically challenged

The week has ended much better than it begun. An addition to my list of surreal experiences since July has to be the Look Good Feel Better (LGFB) session I attended at the hospital - for women with cancer. Berenice from the Clinique counter at JL and Shirley from Clarins assisted Janet from New Zealand in showing a motley crew of women with one thing in common, how to use cleanser, toner and moisturiser - and how to draw realistic eyebrows. I will not come out of this experience without new skills. I fell over at several hurdles (trying to use the eyebrow pencil as an eyeliner for one), and Berenice was forced to grapple the little make-up brush out of my hand when she saw my attempts at applying the dark brown eyeshadow over the lighter base - but on the whole it was quite an uplifting experience. 'I'm mary, and I have breast cancer, 2 children and I moisturise daily', 'I'm Carol, I live in Cirencester, have cancer of the bile duct and enjoy bright coloured eyeshadow', and so on.

Inevitably the conversation turned to heads - bald or otherwise - but as Janet tried desperately to persuade those of us who were wigged up to let it all hang out 'I've noticed that when women are brave enough to remove their weg, we can really see their tremendous bone structure,' I clung resolutely on to mine. I am not ready to go there. My new friend (opposite me, 2 kids, twinkly eyes and gsh) whipped hers off before we'd even sat down - but I just couldn't bring myself to take the plunge.

I have been wondering about that ever since. Is it because I am in some way ashamed of having cancer - or is it because I am fundamentally extremely vain? It's difficult to analyse how I feel about my Duncan Goodhew look - in the mirror in the privacy of my own bathroom I think I look ok - but the idea of sharing this with anyone other than my nearest and dearest fills me with horror. There is something so vulnerable about being bald. I can only say that for me it feels a little like popping out to get the bread and realising that you forgot to put your top on. Despite having spent a number of months when I was 10 walking with a limp in order to attract attention, I simply cannot bear the idea of that kind of attention now that I am 44.

Anyway LGFB had many redeeming features - not least the fact that we were given an enormous goodie bag full of products. Having resisted the urge to leave them all in their smart packaging and recycle them for Xmas I now know how to use green cream (excessive redness) and how to draw attention away from my lack of facial hair. And if I get stuck, as I was leaving, Berenice whispered in my ear that she'd be happy to give me a bit of 'extra help' next time I pop into John Lewis. The shame.