Why Every Woman Needs A Dressing Table

They’re the ultimate piece of feminine kit, argues Rosie Green, who has just taken possession of one for the very first time

As a fully fledged grownup, there are things I feel I should be in possession of. A friend fully committed to plucking out chin hairs, self-control (assuming no alcohol has been consumed), and a car that doesn’t resemble a skip (still waiting). Oh, and the major one, a dressing table.

Oh, how I envy those of you with this vital piece of boudoir kit. I dry my hair in my lounge, looking into the mantelpiece mirror. The hairdryer cord is not quite long enough and thus necessitates a stooped position and inevitable flatness on one side. Every time I do this (thrice weekly)

I get annoyed. My make-up is done in any room, generally where I can multitask, that is, apply eyeliner, and simultaneously bark orders at family members. I transport my freestanding make-up mirror (which, with its 5x magnification, is insanely good for spotting whiskers and unblended concealer, but terribly deflating for the ego) to the required location.