Anti-ageing trousers? There really is no fashion or beauty claim too wild

Kim Kardashian once admitted that if someone told her eating faeces every day would make her look younger, “I just might”.

I’d like to think I wouldn’t go that far, but yesterday I clicked on the link for an article about anti-ageing trousers, so if the theory behind it was convincing enough, who knows.

Now a neuroscientist has explained how our brains are hardwired to keep falling for the latest beauty fads, and what we can do about it. “Seeing an attractive face activates the brain’s reward and social circuits – releasing the feelgood hormone dopamine,” writes Laura Elin Pigott, a senior lecturer in neurosciences and neurorehabilitation at London South Bank University. “This hormone is also released when we happen to live up to a specific beauty standard, making this feel biologically gratifying.”

All is not lost though – our perceptions can be retrained, apparently. “The science makes it clear: our brains respond to what they’re fed. Armed with this knowledge, we can become aware of the manipulation and choose to reclaim control over our own perceptions of beauty.”

That sounds incredible – healthy and empowering. Sadly, it’s also like running a marathon, an admirable undertaking I know deep down in my soul I will never even attempt. When it comes to beauty products, I am beyond help. I do the same thing over and over again expecting different results, without ever learning my lesson.

I have a bathroom full of “miracle” products, each of which promised the earth and failed to deliver, but didn’t stop me buying another almost immediately, in-for-a-penny style. There is a fine line between being gullible and hopeful. It’s like dating, but for the face – no luck so far, but the next one could be The One!

All common sense and logic goes out the window when a product is touted as “Botox in a tube” or has rave reviews. Rationally, I know the celebrity being paid to extol its virtues is probably tweakmented up to the (immobile) eyebrows and that most of the reviewers are bots, but the heart wants what it wants. And that is to believe magic exists, and can be bought for £19.99 (excluding shipping). There is no claim too outlandish, or patently impossible, for me to fully invest in, in both senses. No snake oil I won’t have absolute faith in until proved otherwise, when I will be forced to sadly accept I bought the wrong kind of snake oil, and move on. (To the next, which definitely will work, you wait and see.)

The beauty booby trap can be hard to avoid, whoever you are, or no matter how much higher your mind is set. We’re constantly bombarded with images and messaging designed to exploit our vulnerabilities as we go about our saggy little lives (as best we can, saddled with such enormous pores). Even those barely in double digits aren’t immune – my goddaughter recently asked for an eye cream containing retinol for her 11th birthday. Experts don’t recommend this harsh ingredient under the age of 25, and the British Association for Dermatologists has warned it could cause children irreversible skin problems, not least provoking allergies and eczema.

However, those with medical degrees are no match for the influencers racking up millions of views by sharing their regimes and GRWM (Get Ready With Me) videos on social media. They’ve created so-called “Sephora Kids”, tween and teen skincare addicts, who adults in the beauty megastore need to (gently) push past to get their hands on the latest viral must-haves. The global skincare market was valued at $146.7bn in 2021, and is projected to reach $273.3bn by 2031, but – despite valiant effort – I can’t get it there alone, so ensnaring future generations in the trap is essential. It is depressing to think about. When I was 10, I was blissfully unaware of wrinkles and eye bags, a luxury the children of today seem unlikely to enjoy.

Kardashian won’t really have to chow down on excrement to stay young and beautiful of course, she can easily afford the same facelift her 70-year-old mother – who could now pass for her daughter – has had. By contrast, we mere mortals of meagre means who want to escape the relentless beauty product cycle of hope and despair have just two choices. Eat shit, or remember there’s another, even worse alternative to ageing.