To set the scene: several weeks of late nights, parties, dining out and ok, I admit it – not always washing my face before bed – had finally taken their toll in the form of two corking great spots on my chin.

So I wanted to buy a concealer, on the basis that whichever brand could cover up these bad boys, I was willing to pay – whatever the price.

What I hadn't considered was the fact that girls on make-up counters these days are no longer Tangoed freaks wearing an inch-thick layer of slap.

They are fresh-faced young stunners, who wear just enough make up to perfectly emphasise their already gorgeous features.

Approaching a beautiful woman and asking/begging her to help you cover up your unsightly blemishes is, believe me, mortifying.

Especially as it means pointing out said spots to the beauty queen, then her taking a good close-up look at them, discussing them, and trying to sound practical rather than critical when she points out that one is "raised as well as red".

My inner voice was pleading: "kill me now".

The girl working on the Mac counter in Harvey Nics looked like Elle Macpherson – but younger and prettier, if you can imagine that?

She was around 5ft 9in, with long skinny legs, a minute waist but big boobs, effortlessly cool outfit and accessories, long, wavy, sun-kissed hair and perfect skin.

Then there's me, in a got-dressed-in-the-dark, disastrously mis-matched outfit, no make-up, glasses and my two new firmly-attached friends – Mr and Mrs Blemish.

I've never felt more like Ugly Betty in my life.

She's the kind of girl you would never want to stand next to because 99 per cent of the population would come off badly in comparison.

Embarassing

To make matters worse, I tried around three different shades of concealer, which meant her hiding the spots, then revealing them, hiding, revealing – and repeating the whole process a third agonisingly embarrassing time.

Thankfully she was a lovely person as well as lovely-looking, although it was hard not to feel wounded when she told me the stuff she was using on my reddened chin was so good they used it to cover up models' tattoos on photo shoots.

Ouch, that comment hurt almost as much the spots themselves.

Still, I consoled myself with the fact that although I might be embarrassed about the carbunkles on my chin, unlike these beauty-counter babes at least I didn't have to touch other people's zits to earn a crust.


New Year state of mind

SO, another year almost over, another month and a half of agonising over what to do for New Year's Eve.

Some people like to get their plans in the bag as early as possible, others like to keep their options open til the last possible minute.

Mr N has vowed he's not making any decisions until two weeks before, so we've had to deflect all the offers that have come our way so far – a weekend away with pals, fancy dress party at a mate's country pad, dinner party with the rellies, dinner at a posh restaurant, a house party.

Pressure

It's that one night of the year when there's so much pressure to have the best time of your life it inevitably disappoints.

The most important lesson I've learned is to spend it with your closest friends.

The only problem is, we spent it with my pals last year – so, strictly speaking, it's Mr N's turn to call the shots this year.

Friends vs husband – always tricky.

However, I think I've come up with a clever solution: a pretend NYE knees-up between Christmas and New Year with my mates, then the real thing with Mr N and his mates.

Maybe next year we will just stay in with the cats and save ourselves from all this brain strain.


Bag a delicious bargain at Bird

I DON'T want to sound like I'm obsessed with food – or the credit crunch, but I'm afraid I'm going to mention them both again this week.

Two-for-one deals on pizzas and burgers are fab as we feel the pinch but I've discovered something even better – high-end dining for bargain basement prices.

Bird by Vineet, a restaurant inside the new Alea casino at Clarence Dock, takes Indian food to a whole new level.

The eatery itself is stunning and it's difficult to know which to be more impressed by – the food or the prices.

And the presentation is incredible – Mr N had the tapas platter, which arrived looking like six mini ice cream cones in a little rack and the taste had him in raptures.

Vineet Bhatia, the brains behind Bird, was the first Indian chef to be awarded a Michelin star.

So it's like eating in a Michelin-starred restaurant for less than it costs to dine at one of the UK's best-known chippies and around the same as buying a takeaway.

I know eating in is the new dining out but forget your home-made "fakeaways" – if anywhere can tempt you out of the family nest it's Bird.