Alone and palely loitering

If there is one thing which gets Lady Bracknell's dander up (and, to be honest, there are many) it is the contempt in which advertising executives hold the rules of the English language. Accuracy is of no significance compared to the overriding impetus for brevity. This, in turn, is presumably the result of a general belief that the average consumer's intelligence, concentration span and powers of retention are only marginally higher than that of a turnip.

Lady Bracknell's sensitivities were particularly wounded when a manufacturer of frozen potato products chose to describe its chips as "ovenable". (Had she purchased any of said products prior to seeing the advertisement in question, Lady Bracknell would undoubtedly have treated them as immediately "binable".)

She also winces every time she hears grey hairs described as, "greys". After all, it is not as though hairs is either a long word, or one which would be unfamiliar to anyone with even a basic grasp of English. Would it take up precious nano-seconds of advertising time which could be better spent assuring the viewers that they are "worth it"? Maybe so.

Cosmetics and beauty products do seem to be the worst offenders when it comes to astonishing departures from the rules of English. (And, moreover, from those of common sense.) Since when, for instance, has it been a universally accepted fact that there are seven signs of aging? Presumably since about the time that some wag in an advertising firm hit on the idea of marketing a certain face cream by claiming that it performed seven different functions simultaneously. And can it be coincidental that seven is a number which is widely associated with good fortune? Is there, perhaps, an eighth function which the advertisers have swept under the carpet because "eight signs of aging" would not have had the same alliterative charm?

The worst culprit of all, however, (and one which is becoming increasingly widespread) is the claim that a product "absorbs easily". If the general public had been paying attention when the difference between active and passive verbs was explained to them in the school room, they would run screaming from any product making such a terrifying claim. Call Lady Bracknell timid if you will, but faced with the choice between a product which can be easily absorbed by her skin, and one which threatens to actually absorb her skin - and to do so easily - and she will plump for the former every time. Lady Bracknell's skin may be annoyingly prone to eczema, but it remains vital to the continued integrity of her body.

There would appear to be any number of sun products which have this dangerous absorbing propensity. But, then, quite why anyone who lives in mortal fear of displaying even one of the seven (or possibly eight) signs of aging is prepared to expose their flesh for any length of time to strong sunlight is beyond Lady Bracknell's wit to explain. Indeed, Lady Bracknell - who takes considerable pains to avoid the sun, because lobster red is not a becoming colour on her - mourns the passing of the parasol as a fashion accessory.

One cannot have one's cake and eat it, and no amount of over-priced unguents containing plant extracts and vitamins will be anything like as effective as avoiding damaging one's skin in the first place. Such persons as have been taken in by the media's insistence that a youthful appearance is of paramount importance might, therefore, do well to return to the tenets of their Victorian great grandmothers and recognise the cosmetic benefits of remaining pale and interesting.