There have always been a number of things I just can't leave the house without. Thankfully that list of essential items has, unlike my waistline, shrunk with age.

When I was a Brownie it included a 2p piece to make an emergency phone call (even though no-one I knew owned a phone back then), a safety pin and a length of string to hold things together.

But these days I need something to hold me together, and it’s a whole lot stronger than string.

Before venturing out, quite as important as remembering to check that I am fully dressed (I’ve almost forgotten my skirt twice) is making sure I have a small bottle of superglue about my person. And this magical substance is no longer only found hanging around in macho hardware stores. It now comes in a variety of pretty tubes and graces many a fancy department store aisle.

It’s the partner of what has to be one of today’s favourite beauty essentials, and one of my guilty pleasures: false nails. I just don’t feel dressed without them, and as a gender it seems we’ll try adding just about anything in our quest for perfection.

For now I’m just using nails, but eyelashes, hair pieces, breasts and spray tans are everywhere and seem to help stick that smile on our faces (and I hear they are now working on a new glue to do that too). Many of them of course have their downfalls; they can all too easily go wrong or come loose. A nail pinging off as you’re seductively twirling a lock of hair just isn’t sexy.

Consequently, as I was taught in the Brownies to always be prepared – I am. Trust me, being renowned for always being armed with a tube of glue sure makes you popular. In fact I can boast a whole new army of friends just because of the emergency service I offer. And so far, as well as rescuing fellow damsels in the middle of nail distress, I’ve been on hand to fix heels back on shoes, mend punctures and replace (well, almost) several internal organs. But you really need to buy your glue well. One of the brands on the market couldn’t stick a chewed toffee to a sheet of flypaper, whilst another would firmly weld two cars together, travelling at high speed in opposite directions.

I almost had to be surgically removed from my dressing table after a mishap with a mere speck of the latter. So is it worth all the palaver? Absolutely. I just wouldn’t be me without my nails – although I wouldn’t advise going to the lengths that Rebecca Moore has gone to on page 36 in today’s Friday Life.

And if I’m ever asked if my nails are my own, I answer quite truthfully that they are. I paid damn good money for them.