fake bake it 'til you make it

Me, tonight: 'So, although it's still a little early for New Year's resolutions, I'm most definitely decided on my pledge to spend 2010 getting out there, flirting outrageously, and seeing who I meet and what adventures I have in the process. Lovely. It'd probably be a good plan to be looking good and making the best of myself, then.' 

I then looked down at myself and noticed a rather galling combination of pasty skin, too-big pyjama bottoms, scruffy nails, slightly ... 'hirsute', shall we say, legs, and (the shame) mince pie crumbs on my jumper.

Hmm.

Half an hour later, I am now body-brushed, smooth, moisturised, fake tanned, manicured, sporting my black satin cami, and promising, cajoling, and threatening to go to the gym tomorrow. 

Well, it's a start. Not quite a sex goddess just yet, but anything's an improvement on crumbs, pastiness and hairy legs. If Mark Ronson did indeed hammer on my door right now and beg me to take him here and now*, I'd at least be in a slightly more presentable state...

* yes, Santa, you may interpret that as a hint.