The Useful Diary of Lady Topiary

This afternoon I found myself sitting amongst a group of beauticians, all perfectly plucked, polished and pampered and sipping camomile tea like a table of mannequins, de-toxing after a conference on the latest age-reversing innovations that will soon promise us all eternal youth. (Mental note to self: subscribe to beta testing...)

The temptation to eavesdrop was unavoidable as the beauty pageant shared their insights on the hot topic of the day - the latest laser hair removal technology they had been trained on and how it would be life-changing for their some of their prickliest cacti clientele to be proud owners of a permanently manicured lawn, come rain or shine.

Speaking as someone who has shunned my primal heritage and the closest I get to Chubaka is a Star Wars DVD, I could probably run for office as Ambassador of such horticultural science, hence my interest in their quite literal wax lyrical.

During the summer months it is a beauty salon race to stay smooth, shiny and beach ready, but every good and qualified landscaper (and man-scaper) will advise against the urge to let your garden-go during the winter months. Ask any man and he will agree that there is no task more arduous than the heavy-duty trimming back of the bushes in the spring. It may be summer all year round for those who beat the cold and head to Brazil or Hollywood during winter months but, for everyone else braving the elements, the best way to avoid folly with your follicles is to tend to your garden on a regular basis and await the flowering of spring for the first good cut of the season.

Unless of course you visit the Mannequins and entrust your rockery to the hands of science. After all, in the words of the great Alicia Keyes, concrete jungles are apparently a place where dreams are made of…..?

'Til next time, Pandora