Tweezers: My Surprising Desert Island Luxury

If I was a guest on the long running Radio 4 series ‘Desert Island Discs’ I’d be hard pressed to choose my eight records. My favourites change all the time. The book would be tricky too. But I definitely know that a good pair of tweezers would be my luxury item.

I’d be so tempted to ask for the ultimate fully equipped craft room as my luxury. It would be stocked with everything that I could possibly imagine to keep me in creative ecstasy until the time that I was rescued. The electric and running water supply would be useful for other island activities too, like cooking, cleaning and hygiene. That would be ever so sneaky However lovely this would be the tweezers would probably still win by a smidgeon.

I’m a lot vainer than most people would believe. I rarely wear any make up and my hairstyling philosophy is just wash and go. I don’t even own a hairdryer. My only nod towards a beauty regime is hair removal. I’ve got one of those scary epilators with an underarm shaver attachment for my body below my neck. The first time that I used it was torture but somehow I’ve got used to the pain. Tweezers are the other item. Somewhere along the line I’ve developed the view that I look okay au naturel as long I’m not sprouting random tufts especially in the beard area.

The hair growth on my face has been alarming post menopause. This is a common side effect of female ageing that no-one tells you about. I think it was more under control when I was prescribed oral HRT. Unfortunately it caused unacceptable side effects so I have to tolerate the whiskers. I keep the fuzz at bay with a really good pair of tweezers that I use a few times a week.

I had to make a whistle stop trip to my parents last week on a crisis visit and don’t know when I will be going home again. I couldn’t find my tweezers when I was hastily packing. So it’s been absolutely necessary to buy a spare pair. I need Paul, my partner, to recognise my when he does eventually see me again. I treated myself to Tweezerman Slant Tweezers. These weren’t cheap but do the job perfectly. In my experience cheaper versions just don’t cut the mustard.

So back to the desert island. My recent hair removal crisis got me thinking When I finally hail down that passing ship I do not want them to be greeted by a wildwoman resembling Catweazle, the man in the picture above. I’d take no solace from the massive art collection that would be surrounding me. The idea of being seen with a beard and moustache fills me with abject horror. You see I told you that I was vain. Perhaps as this seems like such a tiny ask I could persuade the presenter to throw in an everlasting supply of razors for my legs too!

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