ALEXANDRA SHULMAN: Perhaps ugliness is just not such a nasty factor?

To be ugly, apparently, is more than being unfortunate in the looks department. According to an expert in pulchronomics (the little-known study of the economics of appearance), ugliness affects every aspect of life – from employability to where you live, your friendships and even your lifespan.

As Tom Whipple, The Times’ science editor, concludes in an article on this subject: ‘The pretty glide through life, unaware of their privilege, wearing a crown that only the ugly can see.’

It’s not surprising that life is an easier ride if you are good-looking – and without wishing to get into the cultural and racial definitions of beauty, there are generally accepted markers as to what is beauty or good looks.

But ugly defies such classification. Is it something to do with the shape of the nose, or the closeness of the eyes, or the definition, or lack thereof, of the chin? Is it our stance, the shape of our skull? What are the characteristics that mean you are less pleasant than others to look at?

It’s not even possible to suggest such determinants without being offensive, though perhaps it’s OK to go far back in time and cite, for example, our Royal Family‘s Hanoverian antecedents, who were famously thought to be ugly.

To be ugly, apparently, is more than being unfortunate in the looks department (stock photo of woman applying makeup) 

Many men who are spectacularly successful, both sexually and professionally, are considered ugly (stock photo of businessmen)

Ugly is the adjective that dare not speak its name. Yet for all this, although being ugly is said to hamper life’s chances, another factor is gender.

Many men who are spectacularly successful, both sexually and professionally, are considered ugly. This might have led them to try much harder at honing their skills, knowing from early on that they couldn’t rely on their looks.

The same is not so frequently true of women. However, while the golden girls and boys, whose confidence stems from a reliance on beauty, will inevitably have to suffer its eventual fade, ugly people suffer no such fate.

Perhaps, ultimately, ugliness, whatever that might be, is not such a handicap.

My race to repair the white house

It’s now 18 years since my partner and I moved into our house and the poor thing is showing its age, with new cracks, holes and broken this and that sprouting every day. 

Yet my attitude to this is similar to how I deal with my own ageing, which is to ignore it for as long as possible and then consider what uninvasive cosmetic updates can be done to avoid any major surgery.

Houses, like humans, suffer ‘coups de vieux’, those moments when they suddenly look many years older, and what once seemed fresh and modern looks worn and tired.

Pictured: Alexandra Shulman who shares her race to repair the white house

When we moved in, we painted the whole place white, including the now gaping floorboards. But today my Instagram feed is filled with examples of delicious wallpapered rooms, exotic curtains and colourful tiling.

Whereas once my friends and I swapped information about the pros and cons of Papers And Paints’ Not Totally White versus its Quiet White, it’s now all about Edward Bulmer’s Brunswick Green and Farrow & Ball’s Hague Blue.

Whereas we were all dead set on knocking down every wall possible, it’s now all about creating snugs and cosy attics.

Since some kind of refresh is probably no longer unavoidable, I’m tempted to go for this new, more fashionable colour palette.

But, in the same way, I’m dubious about cosmetic fillers on my face or diet jabs in my tummy.

In the end, I know I will stick to what is already there. And hope that in a couple of years it will be all the rage again to walk into a shimmering white house, hopefully without the cracks.

Portrait of a strong, captivating beauty

Last week, I watched a preview of Sadie Frost’s documentary, Twiggy. Many of Twiggy’s old collaborators and friends were corralled to talk about the model (myself included, although I never worked with her) and the result is, unsurprisingly, entirely celebratory. 

British Model Twiggy (Lesley Hornby) wearing a pale pink mini dress and large ‘bauble’ earrings in 1966

This might have meant the documentary was too saccharine to be taken seriously, and I would have liked to hear Twiggy and others challenged more on the question of very young models – her own career started at 15 – and the issues around body image.

But the wonderful footage that Sadie Frost dug up showed not only what a captivating and charismatic beauty Twiggy was, but also, far from being a vulnerable Twiglet, she was revealed as a strong young woman, determined to grasp the opportunities life threw at her and who succeeded in everything she did. Including now being a seemingly content, humorous and wise 75-year-old woman.

The joys of a creme caramel at 35,000ft

The Lady Glenconner industry rumbles on with the republication of her Picnic Papers, a collection of reminiscences and recipes from the grande-dame author’s friends such as Princess Margaret and the writer Patrick Leigh Fermor, with newer names added including Graham Norton. 

Flicking through the contents, my eyes darted to Arabella Boxer’s entry – A Picnic For The Air – since she used to be Vogue’s cookery writer. What a great idea to take your own food on a flight. Better than a Pret A Manger sandwich, or having to suffer the contents of the trolley.

Unfortunately, delicious as it sounded, Boxer’s contribution was obviously written before the current airport restrictions on liquids, since a flask of creamy leek soup would no longer be possible. Also, I’m not sure how the suggested creme caramel baked in a china oeuf en cocotte dish would fare getting through today’s security.

Now Primark’s guilty of a cover-up

In the window of an east London branch of Primark there’s the slogan We’re With You, along with a poster montage of characters.

One is a heavily tattooed trans boy with the scars from breast removal proudly displayed. Yet all the biological women featured have their breasts covered up. I’m confused about the messaging here. Primark is certainly not ‘With Me’.