But… it is kind of everywhere. It’s not just celebrities. With a phone constantly under our noses, there’s no reprieve from all our perceived imperfections. Ninety per cent of my meetings take place on a screen, and I see my Muppetty little face in the top right corner of every one. Content creation, selfies, this Millennial compulsion to document everything: I’m everywhere! It’s just not natural to be this aware of your face. Like a Rorschach test, like repeating a word until it loses its meaning, sooner or later, your grip on reality slips, and it’s so hard to get it back.

Girls barely in their teens are using their pocket money to buy retinols and anti-ageing skincare products. A discount department store sells an LED light therapy mask now, so you can blast every imperfection off your face from the comfort of your couch for less than the cost of a tank of petrol. Filters, filters everywhere and not a pore in sight.

This isn’t an attempt to criticise women for undergoing painful, expensive and dangerous procedures in order to adhere to a beauty standard they didn’t set. This isn’t my first time in the dermy’s chair; stones and glasshouses, etcetera. Far be it for any of us to decry something that gives someone else a little joy and confidence.

The last time I wrote about cosmetic procedures in this column, someone took time out of their Saturday morning to contact me and sneer about my mental health. Let’s not do that. Let’s criticise the culture that demands perfection and the echo chamber that perpetuates it.

Because I was watching a film recently, and I was so awed by Keira Knightley’s ability to move her forehead that I had to rewind the scene and watch it again.

Because when an objectively beautiful young woman posted a TikTok to remind people what a “... raw face of a 28-year-old girl who hasn’t had any ‘work’ done looks like,” thousands of comments made jokes about using her as a cautionary tale for sun damage.

Because it shouldn’t be normal to sync my Dysport top-ups with my dental cleanings, because this should be the weirdest part of my day, because faces aren’t projects in progress. My frown lines are smooth, but my conscience and principles need some ironing out.

Hypocrisy looks great on me. Wouldn’t it be nice if authenticity did, too?