'I lost my tweakment virginity in my 50s': Rachel Johnson on her 'Swan Lift' and going under the needle for the first time

Until this year, if ever anyone hailed me with a polite, ‘Wow, you look great! What have you done?’ I could answer, honestly and smugly, ‘Nothing.’ Not a sausage!

Yes, I have a perfect diet, play tennis, sleep and drink water. Yes, I’d had some pretty intense facials and Emface (this lifts and tightens without any invasive treatments) but they didn’t count, I reckoned.

I was sold on the concept of growing old gracefully. Your face – however grisly the sight that greets you in the mirror – doesn’t belong to you. In my view, it belongs to those who love you and have to look at you. My neck looked increasingly like a melted candle, but I was holding out, even though loads of friends have had Botox and fillers – and, worst of all, one or two have even had their lips done.

I didn’t mind my face going south but, like Nora Ephron, I felt bad about my neck. I even questioned Nicky Haslam, the interior designer, about his neck lift, as it was transformative. But still I did nothing, partly because my husband threatened to divorce me if I did. This was no problem for me as: 1) I think I have quite good genes – have you met my father, Stanley? 2) I’m so terrified about looking different that even after I broke my nose twice in my 30s, I turned down free rhinoplasty; and 3) I don’t want a divorce.

But… As a really quite big birthday approached, I bumped into the writer Sarah Vine. She’d had a total glow-up and I mentioned my neck. She sent me straight to Dr Ivona Igerc of Harley Street. Without knowing anything about what she did, along I trotted – partly, I should admit, because Dr Ivy was sweetly comping me the treatment. I explained that the main thing was, whatever she did, my husband wouldn’t be able to notice.

‘Don’t worry,’ Dr Ivy said, ‘I’m all about restoration, not transformation,’ as if my face was an Old Master portrait she needed to varnish. Then she went in. I had a Swan Lift, her signature treatment, to redefine my sagging jawline with threads and microfilling. Using deft jabs, she gave my neck some Botox, microfilling in my face, and Diamond Lips (another of her trademarked treatments), where she ‘unfolded’ my lips and added filler to the Cupid’s bow and lower lip.

I was thrilled with the lips – they looked more pillowy, yet exactly the same as they had a few years before. As for the face and neck, they looked fine and the treatment was quick but not too painful (you use ice packs to limit any bruising).

I told my husband I’d been to the dentist. After a day or so, however, a livid bruise appeared on my neck. I played tennis with David Cameron, who asked, ‘What happened to your neck?’.

Well, I couldn’t exactly tell my husband what I’d told David (I said it was a ‘sex game gone wrong’ as a joke), so I admitted I’d had Botox. ‘Well, don’t have it again,’ he ordered. The bruising lasted a week, so I’ll make sure he’s away when I do it again. Meanwhile, I’ve been going to Dr Ahmed at The Aesthetics Doctor on Duke Street, London, for laser treatment and I love it. You look radiant, there’s no bruising and they can do your neck.

Since losing my tweakment virginity, I’m prepared to try anything (within reason). For example, as Amanda Holden recommended it, I’m sucking down Revive Collagen and have a VAION injectable pen to repair my body’s cellular damage and top up my enzymes, apparently. I just won’t be posting about them on Instagram. If ever someone asks me, ‘What have you had done?’ I still want to be able to answer ‘nothing’. My marriage depends on it!