Frugal things to put on your face

I've wondered for a while whether I had anything worthwhile to share about beauty routines. But then I listened through a whole feature on Woman's Hour where they talked us through how to save money by painting our own nails. Really, Jenni Murray? Is this where we've ended up?

So, what the hell? Whatever I write, it can't compare too badly against a woman on the radio applying her glossy top coat.

Gwyneth Paltrow, according to my mother-in-law's magazines, keeps her routine simple with just a cleanser and 'facial oils'. Maybe Gywneth buys something like this, at £205 for 100ml. Who knows what cleanser she uses.

I use whatever cleanser is on offer at the Pound Shop. (Poundland is just a little bit fab - they regularly have branded products in there, so there's no fear of burning your skin off with a nameless bottle of weird.)

So. Here's where I go all Gwyneth.

Rub in your cleanser, run a flannel under the hot tap, and wipe it off. Leave your face warm and very slightly damp. Then put a couple of drops of Rosehip Seed Oil, which is one of the main ingredients of many of the facial oils you can buy anyway, into your palms and massage into your face. (Don't rub your eyes, just hold your hands over them for a while so some of the oil goes on.) We're using two or three drops here - you won't end up looking like you fell into a chip pan. It's lovely. It doesn't smell of anything (though you can whack some lavender in, if you're so inclined.) It's £3.99 for 50ml, and it will last for absolutely ages.

For exfoliator, if you need it, just throw your used coffee grounds into a jar and mix some olive oil in. Come on. Who wouldn't want to rub this on their face?

Okay. Okay. It looks like mud. And you need a nice hot washcloth to rub it off otherwise you will feel like you fell into the chip pan. But it works, it works really well, and it's practically cost-free.

(As an aside - Mr Coffee has very happily used a mixture of caster oil and olive oil as a shaving oil for ages, in an idea based on the oil-based cleansing method. (Let's make this clear that this was at my instigation - please do not go away from this believing that my husband spends his time online researching beauty routines, since I would be in a good deal of trouble if I were to give that impression.) I can't remember the last time I bought caster oil, but it certainly wasn't this year. The bottle is going strong, and as far as I can remember it only cost a couple of quid in the first place.)

So there we have it. At a rough guess, my beauty routine costs about £8 a year. I wonder if Gwyneth could say that?

Duvet DIY - not the sides or the middle

When I was a child, my grandmother taught me the art of 'sides to middling' - a way of fixing sheets that had worn thin in the centre. In order to make use of the fabric at the sides, which got less wear from kicking feet, the sides would simply be brought together to form a new middle, with the original centre being cut and hemmed to form new sides.

So when our duvet cover split across the top seam - a casualty of being tugged and pulled up around our shoulders - forking out £30 for a new one wasn't the obvious option. Especially when I still had some silk left over from our bedroom blind.

With its bird-cage design, it was bought to remind us of our honeymoon in Paris where every single market trader seemed to have a job lot of ornamental bird cages to shift.

There wasn't enough width to just sew a strip straight across the duvet cover top, so I cut my fabric into panels, matching the pattern, with a wider piece in the centre and two smaller ones at the side (see! I have done a Diagram!). I could have just sewn two long panels together, but it seemed wise to at least attempt a bit of symmetry.

I fixed the split seam of the duvet together with a wide zigzag stitch.

The next job was to pin the replacement panel over the edge of the duvet. This was not done particularly precisely. A duvet is meant to look crumpled, I reasoned - if the end result wasn't iron-flat it wouldn't be the end of the world. After stitching the panel around the top of the duvet, I unpicked the stitching at the top edges in order to tuck in the edges of the panel and then resewed them in place.

So here is our duvet, in its refashioned cover, doing a rather sterling job of matching the blind and saving us £30. Would my grandmother have been impressed?

Probably not. One of her favourite stories was one involving Phylis, a young newlywed, and the daughter of my grandmother's friend. Phylis was showing her mother her new house, all excited with her decorating plans and schemes. She would have a sofa and curtains all 'to tone'. She would have the walls painted to tone and add some toning cushions.

Eventually her mother cracked. "Oh, bugger tone, Phylis," she said. "Let's have a cup of tea."