North Norfolk has become the Martha’s Vineyard of East Anglia. Who needs the summer retreat for New England Brahmins when we have windy coast roads, mudflats and sanddunes? And Burnham Market. Now to outstrip anything they offer on Long Island, there’s even a blockbuster exhibition, Houghton Revisited, at Houghton Hall near King’s Lynn. It boasts works by Poussin, Rubens and Van Dyck.

The 7th Marquess of Cholmondley, has secured 70 masterpieces by Rembrandt and Velazquez back from Russia to exhibit in their original home, his family seat of Houghton Hall. (May 17th to September 29th.) The masterpieces were collected by Lord Cholmondley’s ancestor – Britain’s first prime minister, Sir Robert Walpole. They were then sold scandalously – to pay debts – in 1779 to Catherine the Great, Empress of Russia, for the Hermitage, St Petersburg.

You should hire/buy/steal a Bentley to get to Houghton. They’re one of the sponsors of the exhibition, and I drove a Mulsanne there.

It’s almost impossible to fault the motor – it steers like a dream, has suspension as good as any bed, acres of leather interiors and detail that’s beyond perfect. (Heated door mirrors, doors that close ultra quietly, more seat positions than the Kama Sutra.) It also attracts a lot of attention.

But back to Houghton Revisited. Sir Robert Walpole amassed a collection of Old Masters in the 1720s and built Houghton specifically to house them. It’s the grandest of Palladian stately homes with a near -perfect interior by William Kent, the brilliant 18th century designer and architect. So it’s an exhibition definitely worth seeing. There’s also a contemporary sculpture park there – with works by James Turrell and Richard Long; an award-winning five-acre walled garden; and 4000 acres, including a deer park.

If you want to explore further you can also go to Holkham Hall where Viscount Coke lives with his family. Here you’ll find another walled garden, an alabaster hall, classical statuary and yet more Van Dyck and Rubens. (‘It is the perfect English house from the Golden Age of the Grand Tour.’ Simon Jenkins.) It’s definitely worth a visit.

The coastline of north Norfolk is the stuff of dreams. So take a brisk walk to Holkham beach which is privately owned by the estate – and is the sort of beach you’d find in Cape Cod. You can walks along its four soft, golden, sand- miles, with its saltwater lagoons framed by pinewoods.

WHERE TO STAY.

There’s plenty happening in Norfolk. The Victoria just re-opened (in May) after being refurbished. All the Rajisthani furniture gone and it has been relaunched as a traditional English country inn by the Estate. But it (still) has 10 comfortable rooms with artefacts from the attics and basement of Holkham, and what they call ‘drench’ showers.

That the restaurant has two rosettes may not attract everyone – but venison, beef and game come from the Holkham Estate . (Crabs from Cromer, mussels from Brancaster, cheeses from the nearby village of Wighton. ) Traditional classic French food is their speciality. It’s by the north gate entrance to Holkham Hall and 10 minutes by foot ( there are dog-friendly rooms) to the beach – so a great location (although you’re a minute’s walk from day trippers and the car park for the beach).

The Hoste is considered the best boutique pub. (A 17th century bar where supposedly Lord Nelson drank. ) Its décor is the higher end of dainty Peter Jones- style four- poster beds and freestanding baths – but it’s known locally for its good food,and good rooms . Its new (since 2012) owners have a host of other hotels, six in total, including a railway house and Vine House – a Georgian boutique hotel with French furnishings, a Mr & Mrs Smith favourite. Owners, Brendan and Bea Hopkins – Norfolk folk for 20years – created a buzz when spending £2 million on improving their empire. Pleasingly the Hoste is in the centre of Burnham Market with its Georgian buildings and village green.

The Lowes on the 1800 -acre Kelling Estate offer self -catering in converted farm buildings. It’s a hamlet of 11 period farmers’ flint and brick and barns. On arrival, you’re greeted by homegrown flowers, welcome logs and foods and Vicky, the cheery property manager. London interior decorator Emma Deterding (daughter- in- law of the previous owner of the estate) has done a stylish job – underfloor heating, cream carpets, contemporary fittings. A communal swimming pool, jumbo trampoline and tennis courts make it child -friendly. And doggie bedding makes it dog -friendly.

It’s Swallows and Amazons meets London – there’s even a studio on the estate for pilates, yoga and belly dancing – and it’s just two miles from the sea.

If you want a one-off experience with friends and family, there’s little to beat Voewood – a unique Arts and Crafts home with 14 bedrooms, accommodation for 34 and a Hall that fits 100. It’s eclectic, idiosyncractic and sometimes zany – with each room with a different look, including Fifties, Bloomsbury and Seventies. You’ll either love or hate the Klimt-style shimmery wallpaper, disco ball and dormitory of 7 singles.

Forget it if you want staff/service or an en suite – there’s outside catering and a mere 7 baths here. It’s also a bit spooky. Additionally its owner, antiquarian bookdealer and professional charmer, Simon Finch, lives in a wing, like a latter day Miss Havisham; but instead of a wedding dress, he wears a suit that looks like pyjamas. But it’s set delightfully among woodland and landscape gardens – including sunken gardens and a Grade 1 listed walled garden planted with persimmons, greengages and grape vines. And don’t miss it in August (24th to 27th) when there’s the Voewood Festival (literary, food, arts).

WHERE TO EAT.

Creake Abbey Café and Food Hall (opened April) in north Creake. It’s set amid watermeadows. The man behind it is Stephen Harrison – ex uni lecturer turned Borough Food Market man. Ali Yetman is head chef – she proved her culinary talent at the Wiverton Café in Holkham – and uses Creake Abbey Farmers’ Market as her larder. So you can’t go wrong.

It offers local artisan and organic food : try the pork pie with chilli jam or ( in season) Sharrington asparagus. Its butchery sells rare breed pork and the best of British cheeses. In the café, try pan -fried smoked haddock fish-cake with chilli jam, green salad and remoulade.

The Wiveton Farm Café is another must with its walled- kitchen- garden –to- plate homemade food. Inside the café is all nursery pink and turquoise; al fresco you’re surrounded by raspberry canes and strawberry fields overlooking the sea. Afterwards you can feast on the sweetest of PYO raspberries.

You can drive to Wells to have fish and chips on the pier or, even better, in the back of your Bentley. And, further along the coast, don’t miss just-caught lobster (£14), crab (£5) and local samphire at Cookie’s Crab Shop, Salthouse – a beach shack. Or buy fresh fish there and take it home. If you want DIY food, the Cley Smokehouse is superb.Its salmon fillet – traditionally hot roasted in an oak fired kiln – is succulent, smokey and superlative.

What else to do? You’re in North Norfolk to love the blustery weather with sea gulls hovering overhead and yellow broom waving in the salty air; to visit lots of churches – pilgrimage to Walsingham, and to breathe in the wildness of wind- lashed shores. You should definitely take a boat to Blakeney Point nature reserve .The baby seals will pop up inquisitively beside your boat and you’ll probably see a colony of grey seals lolling on the beach. (There are around 500 seals there.) Afterwards enjoy the marshes and boats bobbing beneath vast painterly skies by the tiny fishing village of Blakeney.

There’s also wildlife and nature at Pensthorpe in the Wenslun Valley – former gravel pits turned nature trails. Do visit if you like woodland walks, pond dipping and bird watching.

You don’t need to be a twitcher to visit Cley Marshes, a wildfowl haven.There’s a lovely walk on its wooden walkway among dense reedbeds, and you can relax in the hide overlooking pools and scrapes and saline lagoons, watching feathered happenings. The view from the visitor centre across the Marsh to the sea is magnificent.

At the end of it all, you can spend the evening with a Yetman’s beer – handmade in Norfolk’s one-man brewery – in front of a cracking log fire. Drink capuccinos in the smart Georgian town of Holt or walk by Jacobean flint faced houses. Then pop into your Mulsanne, breathe in the leather and veneer, press a button to set your seat vibrating and massaging…..and race back to town. The Hamptons are overcrowded and expensive. Who needs that when there’s North Norfolk up the road?

“A thousand pounds for a haircut?!” I hear you say. “But you could feed an African village for a year… buy two Hermès belts… how can any hairdo be worth that sort of money?”

Either you need your head examined, expensively, or you’re tidying topiary for a palace. Who spends a grand on something that’s going to grow out?

The answer is that oligarchs’ wives and assorted A-listers spend £1,000 for a haircut. The likes of Lady Gaga, Linda Evangelista, Michelle Pfeiffer, Salma Hayek and Angelina Jolie. Pippa Middleton goes to the maestro’s salon – or hairspa as it’s known. And the Duchess of Cambridge? If she does, nobody’s saying.

Welcome to the world of Rossano Ferretti, the 53-year-old coiffeur who’s leading a hair revolution. Ferretti is to 2013 what Vidal Sassoon – creator of the five-point cut and Ferretti’s mentor – was to the Sixties.

You haven’t heard of him? That’s forgivable, as he only opened his hairspa in London last year. But he’s ginormous. He has 20 hairspas from Beverley Hills to Milan, is a global spokesman for L’Oreal, runs hair seminars from China to Mumbai, and has world-wide academies where he teaches his approach. He’s the only global hairdressing brand.

Ferretti has more USPs than you’ll find in 16 alphabets. He devised and patented The Method, a unique technique for cutting hair (about which, more later). He has created and patented a special pair of scissors: texturising ones, that snip a delicate 18 per cent instead of the habitual 30.

He claims to have invented the Invisible Cut (full of layers, but you don’t see them). And, along with ace colourist Carl Dawson (who does Kate Moss, Sienna Miller and Gwyneth), is developing a unique hair colouring procedure (watch this space).

The Rossano Ferretti Hairspa experience
But is this all the Emperor’s New Clothes? Are we talking nothing more than clever marketing and gimmickry?

I decide to put my tresses to the test. The Rossano Ferretti Hairspa (all 5,500 square foot of it for just 14 hair stations) is in a four-storey, Georgian townhouse in Mayfair’s St George Street.

A good-looking, besuited doorman spirits me up the sweeping staircase beneath the bespoke Fabergé black glass chandelier. Upstairs there are black floorboards, hair products displayed in antique frames and a 1936 perm machine that belonged to Ferretti’s grandparents. (He is a third generation hairdresser.)

There are no mirrors; another first. Women, he believes, shouldn’t suffer seeing themselves in transition.

And there’s no thudding music. Even the noise of hair dryers is kept to a separate room. Forget hairspa. This is a hair temple.

The Method: a hair innovation
Ferretti appears in a jacket, waistcoat and patterned scarf. (Like the children of the cobbler who has no shoes, he’s bald.) He is stylish, charming and solicitous. He takes my hair in his hands and tuts: “Whoever did this, sorry. This is not the right job for them.” (It was one of the guys at Nicky Clarke’s, actually.)

Then he sprays my hair with essence of unicorn’s tears before taking out his diamond-encrusted platinum scissors. Not really. What he actually does is pick up strands of my hair, let go of them and, as they are falling, snip away. Cutting the hair in motion. The Method.

As he works, we chat about his earlier life, working on catwalk shows for Armani, St Laurent and Dior, and shoots with Richard Avedon. Ferretti started in the trade at 14.

Now he jets from LA (“hair colour city”) to New York (“all about blond and blow out”) to London (“volume and bounce.”)

He did Jennifer Lawrence’s, Kate Hudson’s and Reese Witherspoon’s hair for the Oscars. His has been a meteoric rise from humble beginnings. But how does he justify his charges?

“Quality,” he says. “In the USA people happily pay for it. It’s different in Europe.”

It’s true that Nicky Clarke and Paul Edmonds charge £500 for new clients. But across the Atlantic, Frederic Fekkai, Sally Hershberger and Gibson cost $750, $850 and $950.

“The truth is, I don’t want clients. I’m too busy. I have a brilliant team for doing haircuts.”

As the Italian hairdresser della celebrita cuts my hair, he zeroes in on the way it falls, its structure and texture, rather than forcing it into an unnatural shape.

“The scissors don’t do the haircut, they’re an elongation of my hands,” says Rossano Scissorhands, swooping and curving his body as he works. “I move myself around the hair, not stand there like a stone.”

Hmmm. But doesn’t any halfway decent stylist take note of the natural movement and structure of the hair? And as for the scissors with gaps, aren’t they really just thinning scissors?

He stops and contemplates. “Hair grows vertically and with The Method technique, I cut it holding the scissors vertically, not horizontally,” he replies. “In this way, we achieve a natural movement of the hair which is not geometric or box-like.”

And the scissors? “Usually thinning ones have two blades with teeth. But The Method texturising ones have one plain blade and the other with teeth…” (See a photo gallery on Ferretti’s site.)

Was it worth it?
He takes three inches off my hair. It’s far more than I’d have suggested, though I had told him to do whatever he wanted. Well, you would, wouldn’t you? You don’t go around telling £200–a-second brain surgeons how to work. Fifteen minutes later Ferretti is finished. (OK, a mere £67 a minute.)

The results are fantastic. A sort of bob de nos jours. Full of life. Natural. Flattering. Afterwards friends comment that they’ve never seen my hair looking so good; and my children say it looks professionally blow-dried, permanently.

Crucially, it looks just as good when I wash and go myself. It’s grown-up hair. Hair the way it’s meant to look, not following trends or forced to do things that it doesn’t want to do. Hair that has self -assurance.

When it grows out
But there’s a problem with the haircut: it grows. And I don’t have £1,000 for another. So two months later I take a photo of my original Ferretti-ed head to my local salon and say, “Copy that, please.”

Now I’m not stupid. Granted my local is not a hairspa, but it’s not just any old salon.

It’s owned by a famed snipper, who’s no slouch himself. In his day, he’s done TV presenters and pop stars. And he has a nice view of the railway line. So it should be a bit like taking a designer dress to be copied in India. And I’ve done that a few times.

Anyway, he says “no problem” and chops away. But maybe it’s because his scissors thin by 30 per cent, maybe it’s because he cuts horizontally, but whatever it is, I end up looking like Richard III. And weeping. And £70 poorer.

This means that, just 24 hours later, I find myself paying to have my hair cut – again. This time, the hairdresser, the beautiful Pol Garcia, snips elegantly. He cuts my hair as it falls. He does yoga-style bends around my body. The result has volume, bounce and elegance. It costs £150.

Ah! Did I tell you that he cuts Pippa Middleton’s hair? Oh, and that he works at the Rossano Ferretti Hairspa? Ferretti has a talented team who offer his cuts at a snip of the price.

I’m sold on The Method. One of these days I’d love to have another cut by Ferretti. After all, it only costs 1.4p a follicle.

It appeals to me when I arrive at Grayshott Spa and know from the minute I walk into the entrance hall that I can wear a white robe from now on. ‘You don’t have to worry about labels on your tracksuit or whether you have the correct evening clothes. Just bring trackies and robust walking boots’, was all Vicki Edgson, nutritionist, global spa retreat leader and health consultant, had insisted. ‘The rest of the time, you probably won’t even get out of your dressing gown’. And yes, there is a One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest aspect to the grande dame of spas with its fifty-somethings padding around in slippers and white robes.

Grayshott is under an hour from London and suddenly I am in utter peace and tranquillity and the former country seat of Alfred, Lord Tennyson. Welcome to Comfort Central with Surrey bourgeois décor trying to go modern, gigantic double beds (or two in one football-stadium-sized room), lots of candles, an apple orchard, sauna and comforting middle-aged matrons in white coats.

There’s a cigar room turned bar with a water menu from around the world (and wine); and a billiards room that has morphed into a cinema with pink walls, where they also hold lectures on everything from how to dress to life coaching.

I’m here for a ‘Vital Health – Weight Management’ retreat with Vicki. It’s normally a seven-day retreat, but I plan to do it in two and a half days (but only because I’m on a press trip that doesn’t last longer). Vicki starts from the position that people eat too much and of the wrong things and at the wrong times of the day, which is hardly reinventing the wheel. But this turns out to be not your bog-standard detoxing retreat. She looks at key factors essential for long-lasting, sustainable, empowering energy – known as the Vital Force in Eastern Medicine.

There are eight of us, including two women who have done an extreme diet and lost seven stone between them. We start our retreat in the traditional dining room with a group chat over a plated supper that wouldn’t stretch the stomach of a Chihuahua dog. There’s no going back for seconds; in fact, adding pepper would probably tip the balance into what’s considered over-eating here.

But the food is healthy and terribly good (think grilled fish and saffron gnocchi) and all the better for being eaten after a digestive enzyme tablet, apparently. Plus the accompanying basil water has anti-bacterial qualities. ‘Would you like water or water?’ asks the waitress, offering herb-infused aqua or Grayshott’s own brand. ‘You should be running to the loo every half hour,’ warns Vicki, cheerily.

Vicki tells us that the next few days will be filled with plenty of outdoor cardiovascular exercise, gym circuit class, fresh air, sleep and treatments to help to ‘up-regulate the metabolism,’ (nutritionist speak for fat-burning.) This is to be interspersed with stuff to calm the nerves – mind-relaxing T’ai Chi, Chi Gung, yoga and suchlike – to prepare us for ‘proper, restorative’ sleep.

In between, we will be meeting for three meals a day – breakfast being the largest, lunch being of the help yourself variety, (don’t get excited: they give you a teeny Grayshott plate with coloured stripes denoting how much each of protein, carbs and greens you can have,) and supper the lightest, (think a palm-sized portion).

We will also be knocking back our body fluid ratio in herbal teas: cayenne pepper and lemon in the morning to stimulate liver and cleansing; turmeric (if you want something that tastes like a half-washed take-away curry container); Japanese Hojicha tea for balancing the stress hormones (known as an adaptogen, as needed by the adrenal glands); and Harmonise tea instead of Mogadon.

We are up early for a racy walk around what feels like most of the 700 autumnal acres of National Trust land that backs onto Grayshott’s 47 acres. It’s exhilarating. Then there’s a jam-packed schedule. It’s not faddish, essentially English and does what matters incredibly well. The therapists are unrivalled (one was a masseur here for 40 years; and most of them have worked here for more than 20 years) and the treatments range from beautifying treats to Hopi Ear Candling and food intolerance analysis. But we follow Vicki’s directives when it comes to treatments; when it comes to everything, in fact.

I have a Body Composition Analysis with Ravi (a personal trainer and International and World Cup hockey player) who promises I’ll get taller afterwards (it’s something to do with tightening my muscles, if I remember correctly). He measures my water, protein, fat and mineral content. Then I have an Oriental Wisdom with Catherine which is unique to Grayshott and one of the best massages I’ve ever had. It incorporates Tui-na massage, Shiatsu, oils with Chinese herbs and a bit of magic.

There’s my back massage with Pam from Bradford who delights me as much with her talents honed over decades as her tales of when she was a Young Communist. And the body scrub where I’m slavered in algae and wrapped in plastic like a demented fish roll. We also do a walking mediation, wandering the beautiful grounds together in silence. ‘I don’t mind if you hug a tree,’ laughs our guide Faye, who oozes spirituality and has worked in hospices. It’s the staff who make Grayshot: they’re friendly, helpful and make me feel so mothered.

We spend much of our time with Vicki, a friendly hurricane with boundless energy and a TV presenter’s presentation. She’s also a numero uno exhibit of the glow, pert bum and cheery disposition that comes from fitness, good food and a positive attitude to life. ‘We all have a choice about our own wellbeing,’ she says. Later she asks us to think about what we’d do if we had two hours to ourselves every day. It may be boring that I say I’d like to read but it makes me decide to implement changes in my life.

Over our time together, Vicki proves that eating more slowly, (she terms this ‘conscious eating’ but really it’s masticating and not nearly as much fun as it’s semiotic cousin); selecting the right balance of foods for each individual (she suggests I miss out sugar and caffeine); and addressing eating issues, (show me a woman who doesn’t have any, and I’ll show you a liar) are key to changing our attitude to our appearance and weight. Each of us in the group has specific difficulties that need to be addressed, and Vicki works with forensic focus to ensure that we all have our own plan by the time we leave. Mine includes vitamin recommendations and a visit to Dr Marion Gluck, London’s hormonal health guru and one of the country’s leading holistic doctors.

The group dynamic is vital for the success of this type of retreat. ‘You may not want to sit down to yet another meal with everyone here every day,’ says Vicki. But, surprisingly, eating together is a hoot. Even more surprisingly I feel full after the food that we’re given. We learn a lot about nutrition and listening to other women’s problems around their food habits and addictions is enlightening. ‘It’s a sharing and caring atmosphere, with much laughter and empathy, isn’t it?’ says Vicki. I leave with a smile on my lips, a bounce in my step, a little less lardy and feeling totally refreshed. Even my lingering cold stays behind in Surrey.

If you’re the type who has tons of clothes but never anything to wear, read on. Once we Brits thought that professional style advice was best left to our Transatlantic cousins. We legged it in department stores at the sight of consultants wearing knee-high foundation and extreme designer clothes: reincarnated Stepford Wives telling us which colours and styles of clothes (and makeup) to wear.

We preferred instead to be amateurish in our garment purchases – either going for DIY or stupidly relying on shop assistants to give us honest, objective advice. (Hello, who’s on commission here?)

Either way, all too often we ended up with expensive and uncoordinated items. Impulse buys and age inappropriate clothes. Rubbish sales purchases. And clothes that will fit one day, honest.

Now Notting Hillybillies, sharp investors and slebs are turning to professional help. “Personal stylists have gone big,” confirms Fiona Golfar, editor at large of British Vogue. More specifically, they’re hiring stylist Annabel Hodin to help them make their sartorial choices. She’s an erstwhile model – she was talent spotted by US Vogue’s Anna Wintour – and is the fashion editors’ favourite.

There’s scarcely a glossy magazine editor or newspaper fashionista who hasn’t sought her help. After all, the girl has pedigree: she has created looks for Paul McCartney, Mick Jagger and Bryan Ferry, styling their photo shoots. And the same for Helena Bonham Carter, Rachel Weisz and Mariella Frostrup.

Annabel offers a bespoke service that includes consultations, wardrobe edits, shopping trips and follow ups in person and/or on the phone. Initially she comes to your house or office – the latter for a consultation, ideal for those who feel shy about a lady going through their drawers within an hour of meeting. If she’s doing a home visit, you’d best wear good underwear – you’ll be trying on clothes.

With refreshing frankness and energy, she’ll go through your wardrobe –and with you, she’ll select looks that work for you, find gaps in your closet, identify what you think you want and need and discuss what she reckons would work. Yep, time to chuck the vintage if you’re old enough to have worn it first time round.

After her efficient edit, you’ll have a leaner wardrobe. (Mine was positively slimline.) Then she’ll put your clothes into outfits to see what’s missing, and together you’ll set out to fill them. So now to shopping! Yipee! She has already scoured the shops for weeks prior to meeting you, understands what suits you probably better than you know yourself, and knows where to find everything….whether it be designer or high street. She’ll whizz you through West London’s stylish boutiques and on to Selfridges or perhaps to St John’s Wood High Street’s Joseph – which has clothes not carried elsewhere – for core items. And all done with military precision and a brilliant eye.

Annabel helps you buy key pieces that will last: simple, timeless cuts. She avoids cheap fabrics, cuts and colours. She goes for multiple buys if it’s a vital core item. (Genius. It never occurred to me to buy more than one of something that suits me. “It saves one for best,” she says. “If it’s a classic, you can have it in more than one colour.”) She discourages shopping in the sales. “Only if you already know it’s the right size and colour.” And when you’re all alone and that shopping urge comes upon you, she recommends that you, “Only go where they’ll reimburse!”

Having an appointment with Annabel may be the some of the best money you’ve ever spent. It was for me. When I sold my ‘rejects’ to a second hand dress agency, I made more money than she charges for a consultation. Oh, and she gave me top tips on everything from beauty, my hair cut and colour to personal trainers. Friends keep telling me how good I look. For the first time in my life, I have a capsule wardrobe that works and can be updated (inexpensively) with accessories. For the first time ever, I can’t say that the only clothes I like are the ones I’m about to buy…

Under-eye bags big enough to carry your weekend gear? Crows’ feet, rabbit lines (on the nose), smokers’ lines?

What about muffin-top tummy or basement-level libido and energy? Or maybe tits/moobs going south, saggy bum or wattle (that’s a wobbly double chin)?

If you are bothered by any of these and want to understand more about the best way to banish the problem, high50’s Anti-Ageing Debate could help you. Dr Daniel Sister, an advocate for the scalpel and needles methods, will fight it out with our award-winning beauty journalist Jo Fairley, who favours the potions and lotions route. Interventions of a scientific kind will do battle with proponents of skin-deep solutions.

Dr Daniel Sister is a world-renowned hormone and anti-ageing specialist. He is a needles-not-unguents man who has practised for 40 years at many of the world’s premier clinics (including Dr Sebagh’s).

He has written several acclaimed books, is published in medical journals, has treated thousands of men and women, and regularly appears on TV. Phew!

His research studies and expertise are sought after by the beauty, anti-ageing, nutrition and complementary medical communities.

Science in the salon
Dr Sister works in London at BeautyWorksWest, a beauty clinic with slick, vibrating pedicure thrones and scented treatment rooms, where a client can go in as a sexagenarian and come out as a sex bomb.

When he started out in the Seventies, he worked in a hospital with rheumatic disease sufferers. “Most of them were are old and, in trying to help them, I got into anti-ageing treatments,” he says.

Salon-administered science appeals to the aesthete in him. He uses only methods that are approved in Europe and the States.

He believes in science-based interventions rather than snake oil and designer potions, and in tackling ageing from the inside out. “Everything I use has an evidence base,” he says. “It’s all backed by research and reasonable-size case studies.”

He finds new treatments by attending international conventions and seminars and quizzing other experts about developments in the field.

Hence le docteur (he is from France) has managed to introduce an incroyable seven anti-ageing ‘firsts’ to the UK market, including ‘Dracula’ (aka Platelet-Rich Plasma) therapy.

This treatment has attracted worldwide attention. Not surprising, then, that rather than flogging pots of nice-smelling creams, you’ll always find him talking about things like IPL or Radio Frequency, and Infra Red and Polaris; all designed to give if not quite eternal youth, then something not too far from it.

Needles over knives
He doesn’t do surgery. “I prefer needles to knives,” he says. “But I refer people [for surgery] when required.”

Mostly he thinks surgery is unnecessary. There has been such progress in the development of non-invasive treatments, and most procedures (from reconstruction to fat removal) can now be done non-invasively.

“Fat removal, for example, can now be achieved with ultrasound, laser and radio frequency,” he says.

He’s also a top doc when it comes to balancing hormones, one of the best ways to fight the ageing process. When our hormones are in balance, the body generates new tissue and more energy, and can fight disease. (A reduction in hormone production is the probable cause of the growing incidence of premature ageing.)

Dr Sister’s anti-ageing armoury:
YOUTH: pills to boost hormone production
His beauty and wellness products include YOUTH food supplements, which re-boot the production of the growth hormone in women d’un certain age (and old male bangers, too). If you want to get technical, YOUTH tackles ageing with Arginine, Glutamine and Lysine (amino acids and marine plant extracts, to the uninitiated), which promote skin radiance, sleep and energy levels.

Dracula Therapy: injections of blood, vitamins and amino acids
Dracula Therapy is his most popular full-throttle age-defier and uses the patient’s blood as an injectable treatment. A small blood sample is separated by centrifugation into red blood cells, clear serum and platelets. Vitamins and Amino Acids are then added to create a super-charged serum, which is injected back into the skin.

“There are no disadvantages,” he says. “Nobody can be allergic to his own blood. It’s efficient, proven, and the first step towards using stem cells.”

Dermal fillers: a new nose
He has pioneered non-surgical nose re-sculpting by injecting dermal fillers – gel-like substances that are totally safe – which gives a patient a new nose in ten minutes. He uses Hyaluronic acid – which is biocompatible with human Hyaluronic acid – to create ooh-ah faces and hands.

Injections of carbon dioxide and Botulin Tox
In Carboxy therapy, he injects Carbon Dioxide Gas (CO2) to tackle stretch marks, cellulite and dark eye bags.

It doesn’t stop there. He’s been doing surgery- free breast enhancement treatments for years, with Botulin Tox and injections, including super-charged plasma.

Lipo, light therapy and lasers
He also performs several methods of non-surgical liposuction. One of his fat- busting treatments (MELT) combines radio frequency, magnetic waves, ultrasound and light therapy and another uses a non- invasive laser to melt the F-word from within fat cells.

“Conservative” Brits
For those souls who think creams and serums are efficient, he has this to say: “There’s not one scientific study to show that they work, but many to prove that they don’t. There’s the ‘feel good factor’ – they feel good on your skin, but they don’t penetrate deep enough.”

Contrastingly, he can find no downsides to scientific intervention.

With so much being discovered in anti-ageing treatments, we’re on the brink of a brave, young world. He says: “Only five years ago, ultrasound and radio frequency weren’t even used. Each time we open a door, there are ten more [discoveries] behind,” he says. “There’s a lot to be explored with stem cells.”

The Israelis are pioneers in creating equipment for age-defying treatments. The gold for hormone therapies goes to the Americans. The injectable treatments medal gets scooped by the Europeans.

And the Brits? “They’re very traditional and conservative,” he says. “They don’t embrace the techniques fast.”

Which, paradoxically, is good news for high50 readers. Otherwise, Dr Sister wouldn’t need to thump his tub at the high50 Anti-Ageing Debate this month. And we’d miss out on deciding who’s right.

Jo Fairley, high50’s beauty editor, is putting her elegant neck on the line in defence of topical treatments. We salute Dr Sister for joining her there.