Ruby Room

Some stars like to tease their tresses into chic coiffures. Others prefer a sexy scruffy style, looking permanently as though they've just enjoyed a particularly passionate rendezvous. See which celebs suit superstyled chignons or rock untamed manes in our gallery...

The celebs have come out in force with show-stopping shoulders this season. From sharp, structured and severe to fearless, voluminous and architectural, these are the stars who've fallen for autumn's hottest trend...

Make like an A-lister and go collar crazy this season. Deck your neck and decorate your decolletage with a dazzling statement necklace...

Don't get me wrong, in the beginning I frenziedly signed up to every social networking site from Facebook to Twitter, excited that the world had finally come around to my way of thinking.

Writing something banal on your BFFs 'wall' every month or so, is the perfect way to maintain friendships if you're a lazy girl like me.

But now the damn things seem to have taken over. If I'm not being poked, then I discover someone I've never heard of is 'following' me (which, by the way, is probably the creepiest thing I've ever heard), or I've been challenged to a test whereby I have to remember and name every '80s cartoon made, or my sister-in-law has sent me a pet cow for a virtual farm I never asked for.

Then there are the status updates. Like an omnipresent shrink, we're asked 'what are you thinking?'. Of course anyone with an ounce of self-respect makes something up about attending their weekly fire-eating lesson or making fondue, naked.

But some people, and you know who you are, actually publish every last genuine, dull intricacy of their lives for all to see which is just, you know, depressing.

I am notified by e-mail every minute or so that someone, somewhere, that I may or may not know, wants a piece of me.

My inbox is folding under the pressure but whilst I can no longer take the guilt of not replying to Tweets, posts or graffiti on my 'wall', I cannot bring myself to close the accounts either as, alas, I would then be out of (or free of, depending on how you look at it) the loop.

Sigh. Oh well, I suppose if it's good enough for Stephen Fry...

At 7am this morning, after a particularly restless night, I wrenched myself out of bed. Scowling, I pulled my coat over my jimjams, yanked on my Uggs, wrestled with my warped front gate and set off in a seemingly simple mission to buy milk and a newspaper.

I was jolted out of my zombie state however, when I found my morning routine rudely obstructed by what looked like, through my blurred, sleep sodden eyes, a lusty two-headed monster.

On further inspection, the mythological creature turned out to be a twenty-something couple overwhelmed by passion, in the midst of a full tongue sarnie on MY doorstep. If I'd had my breakfast, it would have undoubtedly reappeared.

It's not that I'm unromantic. I am partial to a chick flick, enjoy a candlelit dinner and evenings whispering sweet nothings. Sucking face in public however, whether at an eye-poppingly early hour or even post watershed, is NOT romantic.

No-one enjoys listening to the slurping salivary noises of your kissy wissies, it's not cute and no-one is swooning over the love bubble you have created – we just want to burst it.

There is a time and a place for affection and, to all of you bursting to snog and fumble in my path, just remember how much more exciting it would be if you kept the passion bubbling inside, building anticipation until you fell into a more private nook.

Otherwise, if you like being the subject of voyeurism, check your newspaper's small ads, there are car parks for people like you, you know.

Check out our tips for dazzling décolletages and see which stars have given great supporting performances or made a complete boob...

Brrrr! Can you feel that chill in the air? Yep, winter's-a-comin' so, take a tip from the accessory enamoured A-listers and invest in a hot hat to keep you toasty this season...

From ballet buns to Heidi plaits, glamorous up-dos to glossy trailing tresses, see the stars' hairstyles we covet most...

I look forward to winter for one reason only – less weddings.

Having just gone through another jam-packed summer of 'big days' and spending out to attend, dress accordingly, get suitably plastered, stay overnight and finance the honeymoon (or, in one case, a deposit for a house!) of a total of eight happy couples, I am not only bitterly poor but deflated.

You only have to watch five minutes of the Living TV reality show, Four Weddings, to learn that these blissful days are now less a chance to celebrate love than to wage competition.

Some unashamedly selfish Bridezillas want THE perfect day and will stop at nothing to get it. You, the guest, should realise that you are just there to make up the numbers and make sure she gets more pressies.

You were given your orders for the day via a ten page invitation booklet that folds out into the shape of a swan and have been told that although 'your presence is present enough' that the lovely couple would appreciate donations towards their honeymoon. In multiples of £100 as the travel agent can't process lesser denominations.

The day itself is usually a miserable affair. You have to 'mingle' (urgh) and spend the entire ceremony looking up from your hymn book, covertly searching out the bar. Having finally located it, it is then a race to see if you can get drunk enough to find the speeches funny and dance with randy Uncle Gordon from your table.

Furthermore, for all of the honeymoons, houses and yachts I've donated to this summer, I have yet to receive one 'thank you' note. Yes, Mr and Mrs so and so, I am aware that you are too busy gushing at one another to think of anyone else, but the party's over and it's not all about you any more so get out your biro and scribble us lowly benefactors a letter of gratitude.

Or better still, an e-mail, then you don't even have to buy a stamp you stingy swines...