What I see in the mirror: Leo Sayer
When I look in the mirror, I ask, "What's my hair doing?" It's still mad and big and curly. My dad died in his 70s with a full head of hair, so I have that legacy. It's a little grey, so I have the roots done to give me a bit of youth. I am a brunette, but there's also a mix of blond and red in there from being on a cruise ship recently and getting a bit of sun.
My hair is massive and fills the mirror. In the morning it can be interesting shapes that need dampening down. Some days, it looks like the Rock of Gibraltar, on others like the skyline of London.
I like my face. It's cheeky – dare I say, Chaplinesque. I have expressive eyes. I've typical singer's jowls, a bit fat and soggy. If I was really vain, I would have a nip and tuck, but the knife isn't an exciting prospect.
I am glad we are talking about my face, because farther down is an untouched area. I don't exercise. I'll widen out a little and then thin down, depending on how much work I'm doing.
My skin is smoother since I stopped drinking three months ago. I don't touch a drop now. A doctor told me that my liver wasn't very good. It was nothing to do with drinking – I've never been a heavy drinker. He suggested that I give it up for a week or two. So I did and I found my energy coming back and a clarity in my mind – and I didn't need to take a two o'clock nap.
I am 62, but life is treating me well and I've fewer wrinkles than most. What keeps a good face is no stress, and I refuse to worry.