WATCHING myself on screen as I chat with John Boyega, something catches my eye.
No, it’s not the handsome Star Wars actor’s looks, or even my dazzling interview technique . . . it’s my double chin.
I put it down to unflattering camera angles but there is no denying my unfortunate flubber.
As someone who talks to celebrities for a living, I need to look my best on camera.
But what could I do?
At £2,500 for a chin reduction, surgery is not something I can afford, while fat-burning jabs cost hundreds of pounds a session and make me feel squeamish.
Then I saw Love Island host Maya Jama in a chin-sculpting mask on TikTok and started to wonder: If they help make her look so stunning, could they work for me too?
I’ve been 38 for my last few birthdays and have really started to worry my chin will give my age away.
Dr Barbara Kubicka, founder of the Clinicbe clinic in London, says: “The chin and jawline play a crucial role in the perceived age and vitality of the face.
“Sagging skin and accumulated fat can suggest age just as much as wrinkles do.”
With this in mind, I track down the Wishful chin-lift sculpting sheet mask online.
According to Boots’ website, 88 per cent of users felt it made their jawline “more defined and sculpted” — and it seems Love Island’s Molly-Mae Hague is also a fan.
At £8 per single-use mask, which needs to be worn for 20 to 30 minutes, they are not cheap, but I buy a week’s worth.
My seven-day chin challenge has begun . . .
Day 1: I break out my first mask, which smells delicious, like expensive soap.
There is no danger of it falling off as it loops around my ears.
My boyfriend merely says, sarcastically: “Oh, very attractive.”
Half an hour later, the mask comes off and he fails to give me any compliments.
I don’t turn any heads at the pub later, either.
Day 2: We head off to my boyfriend’s tennis match and I want to look my best.
I ease on the mask and wear it for 30 minutes while I eat a bacon and egg sandwich.
The mask restricts the movement of my jaw.
After the match, nobody notices how sculpted my jawline looks.
Disappointing.
Day 3: I slap on the mask for half an hour before a class at Barry’s, the fitness studio formerly known as Barry’s Bootcamp.
Celebrities including Dua Lipa and David Beckham are rumoured to work out there, so there’s no knowing who I might bump into.
I have got to look my best, but nobody comments on my chiselled chin.
Day 4: I’m meeting a friend for coffee and excited to see if they will comment on my tighter chin.
No compliments, but I only had time to wear the mask for 20 minutes.
Day 5: Off to a burlesque show.
With so many beautiful women there, I want to make sure my boyfriend’s head isn’t turned.
Again, I only had time to wear the mask for 20 minutes, so cross my fingers it will work.
Although my partner’s head does not turn all night, I’m not convinced this is due to the magic of the mask.
Day 6: Hungover, I wonder if the chin mask’s fresh smell will rejuvenate me.
This time, I wear the mask for 40 minutes while watching TV.
My ears are sore by the time I take it off.
Overall I am feeling much better, but not sure my chin is looking any more defined.
Day 7: After wearing it for 30 minutes, I whip off the mask for the final time, as if doing a striptease for my chin.
Seven days into the experiment and I wonder whether it’s done any good.
The mask smells gorgeous and my skin feels lovely afterwards.
But has it really eliminated my saggy bits?
VERDICT: I’ve spent a week looking like Kermit the frog.
The cost wasn’t astronomical but I’d have been better off buying a nice scarf, because there was no change whatsoever.
I’ve decided to love my chin exactly as it is.
So what if I’ve got a little bit of flubber?
Instead of it getting me down, I’ll be keeping my chin up.
