Some things improve with age. Wine, whiskey, antiques and furniture, even steaks or cheeses. Other times, age spoils. Fruit, bread, cake, and flowers for example. Time can be a friend to some and an enemy to others. There’s a huge trend in trying to reverse the effects of ageing these days. People spend huge sums of money getting Botox, facelifts, implants and cosmetic surgery. All in an attempt to banish wrinkles or fat. Honestly, I don’t know what the fuss is about. Ageing, wrinkled skin looks fantastic in my opinion. I’ve long been fascinated by it, and since the age of 16 I’ve regularly done life drawing classes with models who are not exactly supermodels. Give me an aged, lined face over a youthful one any day. There’s so much more to see, so many more interesting aspects to render. A lined face tells me stories, it has history, it has lived a life full intrigue and drama. My wife thinks I’m mental of course. She is firmly in the preserving her looks camp, buying lotions, potions and all manner of rescue operations, in a bid to stay looking young. For me though, skin looks better with age, not worse. I’m watching my own wrinkles grow, fascinated by their location (why I’ve got two diagonal lines appearing on my forehead I’ll never know), but proud of the stories they tell and the life they’ve lived.