Here, however, is the unvarnished truth (you can see the resemblance if you close your eyes):
Now, I do my best not to go round looking like famous people. I have never craved the spotlight and paparazzi lenses vex me. Hours I spend each morning trying to suppress any hint of Claudia Schiffer or Keira Knightley, although I've been told I bear a passing resemblance to that woman who writes for The Guardian:
I got a shock, however, when I opened my paper to find myself staring back out at me. Myself with better groomed hair, eyebrows, lips, clothes and poise that is. The likeness recedes when I compare the photos, but my boss, my neighbour, my best friend, the Lady who Does the Flowers and old mates of my brother's, whom I haven't seen for 12 years, all hastened to tell me that they'd seen my alter ego sashaying across their TV screens. So Lucy Worsley, Chief Curator at Historic Royal Palaces, must share some distant gene:
Then it happened again. I was reading of a heinous murder and a baffling disappearance and my own smug security was shaken by this:
Yes, there is the unnerving risk that Lord Lucan, should he be alive and at the same Tesco check-out as me, might mistake me for the wife he allegedly tried to bump off.
Talking of aristocracy, it's a little-known fact that, in the early 1980s, Lady Di modelled herself to some extent on me:
Thirty years on, as I grower longer in tooth and jaw, I have more facial kinship with Emma Thompson:
To be honest, I don't like the way things are going. Old cherished bits of me are dropping off, while new unwanted bits are sprouting on. Meet me here, same time, same place in in another two decades: you'll find I shall look like Andrew Marr:
At this point I'm supposed to tag more bloggers, but none of the bloggers I follow seems to like being preyed on, so I throw it open to you: whom do you resemble?