Once the Brits thought that professional style advice was best left to Desperate Housewives and Mad Men. Americans, in other words. Women in the UK ran a mile from beauty consultants wearing concrete-mix makeup and men legged it at the idea of skin care, moob jobs or a personal stylist. We women preferred instead to be amateurish in our clothes purchases – going for the DIY approach – or, in the case of men, electing to be, well, man-ish. But now that’s all changed and the stylish and wannabe cool are hiring Annabel Hodin, erstwhile model (talent spotted by US Vogue’s Anna Wintour) and the fashion editors’ favourite. She is the ne plus ultra of stylists.

Annabel offers a bespoke service, from £350 for an initial consultation to meet you and look at your present wardrobe and discuss editing and/or shopping and budget. She arrives punctually for my appointment – sporting model’s face and figure and Celine–style outfit. “I like clean lines,” she explains. (Wear your best knickers when you see her – you’ll be trying on your clothes. And chucking a lot out!) With frankness and a twinkle in her eye, she goes through my clothes, jewellery, makeup….. And then through my husband Adrian’s wardrobe (albeit with him as an additional consultation on a different day).

It’s an epiphany. I put on my favourite coat. “It’s too angular for you,” she says. “Not doing you any favours.” I slip on a dress. “It’s furnishing fabric,” she says, but tactfully. During Adrian’s appointment later, it is suggested that he jettison several particularly unattractive garments that he clearly inherited from Fred Flinstone. Annabel’s directness gets results. In between doing the wardrobe clear-out, she’s giving tips: where to get the perfect eyebrow created (“Threading gives too harsh a look”), best his ‘n’ her laser hair removal (Joanne Evans at Kensington’s Medical Rooms), brilliant facialist (Vaishaly), where to get great grooming or even Bro-tox (Botox for him).

As we do the wardrobe exploration, Annabel highlights my good points. Perfect Fifties silhouette and beautiful, sculptural face, since you ask. “So keeping to simple, classic lines will enhance your natural look. Which is why,” she reveals, “I’m editing out the masculine shapes….” She takes notes and sketches what I’m keeping. “In case you call and say I need something to go with Y..” (Later, I tell her I’m going to Marylebone. When I’m standing in queue to buy some fish, I get a text. She offers phone support as part of a follow-up package. ‘Remember to go to Matches to look at the plum and taupe sandals,’ it reads. ‘Very chic.’ Equally Adrian receives a timely and useful text reminder of a garment he actually needs – rather than an impulse buy – when he’s in the middle of having a quick peek at wish-he-could-afford-them cars in a Knightsbridge showroom).

Annabel identifies a person’s style and is great on colour, proportions and what’s age appropriate. For me: out with tagliatelle straps and shoes that look like a dead lizard – and that’s just for starters. For him: out with the shirts that make his complexion look as if he’s feeling sea-sick. “I want to help you assess how to convey – with what you wear – the message you wish to get across about who you are,” she explains. “We’re going to build a capsule wardrobe of 20 or so classic pieces which you can accessorise for work or play – a look that fits your life.”

We pull all the pieces out of my schizoid wardrobe – a combo of bloke-ish tailoring and boho-not-chic. Over our morning together, Annabel does what she calls an ‘edit’ – but which I’d call a chic cull. She’s aiming with me more for Grace Kelly meets ’50s Dior than my series of sales oopsies and unmatching separates. (And for him? Well, hmm, a sort of Colin Firth in Tom Ford’s Single Man look.) “You’ve wasted tons of cash buying the wrong things,” she says. “Getting your look right saves time and energy and money.” (Until now, we have both considered ourselves to be fairly stylish and well-groomed!) “You’ve certainly got a good eye,” she continues. “It would take a one-day shop for you to have a fabulous wardrobe and feel incredible too. Cut out buying uncordinated items on a whim. The secret to great style is an uncluttered wardrobe full of key pieces that you love and staples that work.”

We put aside clothes that are too small, too cheap or never worn (mostly sale) mistakes. Things that I’ve been holding onto because I wore them at my 21st/my brother’s weddings/on my first date. High fashion that is dated. Garments that are tired or marked. Hey, even a fair amount of Prada and Pucci goes to that clothes pile in the sky. But apparently we wear barely 20% of our wardrobes; and streamlining, well it’s just so very now, isn’t it?

After her phenomenally efficient edit, I have a thin wardrobe (and Adrian has piles ready to adorn the rails of a second-hand shop that sells Gucci. Get ye there quickly). Then Annabel puts my clothes into outfits to see what’s missing, identifies the gaps in my remaining material possessions and we set out to fill them. “You should never go shopping unless you are looking for something specific,” she counsels wisely.

Ah, shopping. If you’ve got more pressing things to do (i.e. take out your speed boat/go sailing/take your Ferrari out for a whirl) than traipse around fashion boutiques, then it’s worth hiring someone like Annabel. She already knows precisely what shops have in stock, understands what suits you better than you know yourself, and knows where to find everything – whether it be a big name designer or high street – because she researches so very well.

Our first stop is Browns, where we get treated like royalty and pick up Hollywood dresses, statement shoes and Norma Kamali. “Delicious costume colours,” says Annabel appreciatively. (His first stop is Selfridges. Under her expert gaze, he buys a zillion-ply cashmere jacket, which costs more than ten arms and ten legs. “Quality over quantity,” says Annabel, ever the sartorial economist. “It’s better to buy fewer and better”.) Then there’s Matches for everything under the sartorial sun, and more.

We proceed to Joseph (St John’s Wood), where we’re helped by the indefatigable Elly. “They’re great at doing designer inspired looks, at a snip of the price,” explains Annabel. “All the fashion editors go there.” Morphing into a fashion editor, I leave with a few carefully selected items: cropped trousers, Prada lookalikes, pieces of wonderfulness at reasonable prices. But it doesn’t stop there. Soon Annabel has also kitted me out in retro sunglasses from Cutler & Gross – which look better than anything I’ve ever selected; and shoes in enough colours to make a paint chart from Tod’s in Bond Street – helped by manager Simone Artuso. (There’s nothing he doesn’t know about feet and handbags.)

There are financial benefits to all this. I save days of trudging around stores like a demented bargain hunter simply in order to waste lots of money on ill-fitting, mismatched outfits in styles that suit Victoria Beckham or Kate Middleton. Annabel insists on buying key pieces that will last. “The simpler the cut, the more timeless it is.” She avoids cheap fabrics, cheap cuts and cheap colours. “Select something,” she explains, “that is or looks expensive and timeless.”

She goes for multiple buys. Not exactly two for the price of one. And not quite stack ’em high and buy ’em low. But you get the gist. Who ever thought of splashing out on more than one pair of the same trousers? Not me. “It saves time later,” she explains. “If it’s a classic, you can have it in more than one colour.” Sales? “Only if you already know it’s the right size and colour. But I prefer Refund Shopping – if you are at all unsure and alone – only go where they’ll reimburse.”

For the first time in my life, I end up with what the cogniscenti call ‘a capsule wardrobe’ that works and can be updated (inexpensively) with accessories. “It’ll take you just minutes to pack whenever you go away,” she says reassuringly, “because everything cross coordinates.” As for Adrian, he’s now got a fabbo closet and has followed the Annabel Plan For Looking Good Inside and Out – raiding her little black book secrets for everything from how to get naturally white teeth (“Super white is too American”) to where to get the best massage in town.

Annabel has a loyal following including ever increasing numbers of male clients. “They want the makeovers, grooming and tips they’ve seen women get,” she explains. “They know that successful men look successful, and they want the transformation they’ve seen in a George Clooney or Daniel Craig. A smart, well-chosen suit won’t get you the job or the partner – but it helps.” It is, she adds, less about fashion than style.

“When I’m dressed right, I look the part, feel more confident and do better,” explains a bond trader friend, later. “But you have to get the guys over a bottle of Crystal before they’ll admit seeing Annabel – unless they have lots of public appearances. Hell, who wants to admit they cannot dress themselves?!”

During these times when people are tightening their (Louis Vuitton) belts, Annabel has seen a ten per cent rise in business. She’s not someone you want in tough times, she’s someone you need. She’s the person who simplifies life. The one who helps women/fellas get or keep their guys/babes/jobs.

In the autumn, she’s launching a service specifically for well-heeled Americans visiting London. “To give them the unexpected style accent that the Brits do so well,” she explains. Barack Obama? He could already be one of hers, he’s so well dressed. “Well, is he?” I ask. She smiles.

As for me, she’s worth her weight in clothes that I chucked out. It’s (almost) the best money I’ve ever spent – making everything work in a different way and creating a functional wardrobe. Wherever I go, people tell me now how fabulous I look. “Annabel,” I reply knowingly. Do you remember what Carrie Fisher wrote in Postcards from the Edge? ‘The only clothes I like are the ones I’m about to buy.’ For the first time in my life, the only clothes I like are the ones I’ve just bought. And my Mr Fisher feels the same way too.

There’s an area so desirable that the masters of the universe are snapping up islands and peninsulas there. The new, must-buy or must-visit place for the richest men on earth is the Ionian. So it’s bye-bye to St Trop, Tuscany and the Hamptons and hello to Meganisi – an Ionian island where there’s no tourist infrastructure and which only even got mains water and electricity in the Eighties. Are you surprised that that’s where the super-wealthy are going?

Well, listen up. If you already own enough camels, Chelsea barracks, Qatar and Al Jazeera, what would you spend your oil money on next? Ionian islands, naturally. In May, the emir of Qatar bought six islands just two miles from Ithaca. (Remember your Homer? Incidentally, Ithaca is also where designer Marc Newson is building a house.) The Sheikh’s islands include Oxia – roughly 20 nautical miles from Meganisi and the largest is 1200 acres – and cost a mere £7.35 million. They’re uninhabited and he fell upon them when he moored his superyacht nearby.

In April 2013, Aristotle Onassis’s granddaughter, Athina Onassis Roussel, sold a 99-year lease on Skorpios – another private island in the Ionian Sea. It went for a snip at £100 million – fortunately the lavish pink villa that the late shipping buhzillionaire Aristotle Onassis built for Jackie O and the nearby islet of Sparti were also included in the sale. The happy purchaser is Ekaterina Rybolovleva, 24, daughter of Russian billionaire businessman Dmitry Rybolovlev. (The potash man/owner of AS Monaco FC who has a fortune estimated by Forbes at $9 billion.)

British billionaire banker Lord Rothschild also caught the bug for the region by holidaying in Kensington-on-Sea, as his bit of Corfu is now known. Now he’s snapped up 8km of Meganisi – roughly 3500 acres of a peninsula – and the neighbouring 200-acre island of Kythnos. Roman Abramovich and sculptor Anish Kapoor are both keen to build homes on Lord R’s Meganisi estate. Enough said. You can’t get cooler than Kapoor.

History is repeating itself. Onassis could have bought anywhere in the galaxy – and snapped up Skorpios. Niarchos bought Spetsopoula, a small island off Spetsai. Fifty years later, the diamond-encrusted wheel has turned full circle – this little spot in the Ionian is turning again into the epicentre of the jet-set world.

Now Tom Hanks, Spielberg, Abramovich, Bill Gates and Madonna cruise its waters on super yachts – the £200,000 to £700,000-a-week type. Little wonder. It’s one of the lovelier places in the universe (or certainly Europe) for sailing.

And what of Meganisi, the place that Lord R has selected as his little bit of paradise? (Or Tafion as the island was known in the Odyssey.) It’s where Aristotle Onassis visited in the Sixties, alongside Maria Callas, Winston Churchill, and Jackie O – who went for ouzo and appetizers at the local tavernas in Vathy.

Go to Meganisi and you’ll find a place lost in time. You’ll reach it by boat from Nidri, passing Skorpios on the way. It’s small (just 9 sq km) with just 1041 inhabitants. It is little developed and is home to a lot of sheep and olive trees. Not hooked yet? Ah, but you will be.

The island is as naturally beautiful, secluded and unspoiled as it gets – one of the great and untouched parts of Greece. There are pebble beaches and ones like finest sugar crystals and waters so clear you can see forever, hidden bays and enough privacy to deter even the most determined paparazzi. There are wild green valleys, steep cliffs honeycombed with caves only accessible by boats, secret coves and ooh-ah views from the top of Lord R’s peninsula over to the mainland. The locals are also incredibly friendly – call it ‘philoxenia’ (friendliness to strangers)….they do.

The most wow! villas weren’t available before for rental. But because of the crisis, top properties are coming onto the open market. Alexandros Matsukis – director of Ionian & Aegean Island Holidays and market leader in renting out villas on the sort of islands on which the big boys have set their sights – is picking up the best. His villas currently have locations that would turn Zeus green with envy, with panoramic views over the endless sea and direct access to almost-private beaches. Book for next year, and Matsukis will be offering ones with splendid interiors, great quality builds and fabbo infinity pools too.

So get there. Go sailing on the aquamarine sea. Take out a speed boat. Whizz around the narrow traffic-free lanes. Sit in a taverna sipping Retsina. See for yourself why Giorgio Armani, Bill Gates and Madonna have been scrambling to buy in the region. And why party time is coming there again.

This is the story of the Marquess, the Old Masters and the Bentley. The tale of my bravely blazing the trail for masterpieces by Van Dyck, Rubens and Murillo to be returned from Russia to Norfolk 234 years after Catherine the Great bought them in a sale that caused national outcry in Britain.

It’s a story of me and my trusty Mulsanne intrepidly leading the way from the Hermitage State Museum, St Petersburg, across thousands of miles of frozen terrain to Houghton Hall, Norfolk – and there, in their original home, the grandest of stately piles, to await the arrival of the priceless collection of paintings that was originally housed there and belonged to Britain’s first PM, Sir Robert Walpole. Except I cheated a little.

Reader, I had planned to do this long drive (1868 miles behind the wheel through Latvia, Lithuania etc.). Honest. But then to circumvent a billion-hour wait at the Estonian border crossing, monotonous days of unspectacular scenery of the northern European plains and USSR-size piles of bureaucratic papers, I took the plane from St Petersburg and then drove from Heathrow to Houghton.

So instead this is now a far more thrilling story – about the car made in Heaven and finished off in Crewe: the Mulsanne. After all, who needs to read about endless roads, blizzards and Russian forests when you could be thinking about a vehicle with TVs in its headrests and veneer tables for champagne flutes?

So we can pass quickly over the W hotel in St Petersburg with its clientele of Russian twigs in spray-on dresses. There! Done. And gloss over the joys of that city’s grand apricot palaces and orthodox churches by the frozen Neva River on which people were walking. We need also reflect only fleetingly on my private visit to the Hermitage – with its three million Michelangelos, Picassos etc. – a breathtaking place where it would take 11 years to see everything, spending just one minute before each exhibit.

Indeed, the only really important thing about St Petersburg was that I was chauffeured in a Mulsanne. Twice when we stopped in the city, passers-by gawped at and photographed our palace on wheels. You think it’s cor! from the outside – well, you should be in here, I wanted to cry. It glides, it purrs and it smells so good I want to bottle it (leather and veneer); there are acres of seats – ones that massage/warm to perfection and probably serve vodka; vanity mirrors for applying that slick of Dior lipstick; soft- shut doors; and a Bentley designed phone. That’s Russia done then.

We can also dispense hastily with British sights, including my stupendous private visit to the fine Palladian house that is Houghton. And forget my meeting with the 7th Marquess of Cholmondley – its current occupant, the country’s most important peer and who has secured 70 of Sir Robert Walpole’s best pictures back from Russia. And disregard the William Kent décor there being returned to its splendid original 18th century specifications.

All that matters is that I drove to Norfolk in a Mulsanne. A motor that goes nought to seriously fast in a nanosecond; with suspension better than any bed; and boasting special specifications – like polished aluminium wheels (£13,410) and sunroof. When I rested a while, I had at my fingertips its bespoke silver tumblers and ashtrays. And a Naim for Bentley sound system. Quite some trip. But with this car, every journey is an event.

Alexandros Matsukis, director, founder, co-owner of Ionian & Aegean Island Holidays, provides a close-up of the region. His tour operator company has been renting out villas there since 2002 and is now the undisputed market leader on the sort of islands for which the big boys are gunning.

Ionian & Aegean Island Holidays have 200 villas on 10 islands and mainland Greece on their books, including several private Matsukis- owned properties, and a turnover of £9 million and growing annually. They have offices in London, Lefkada and Meganisi.

Is this little spot in the Ionian turning into the new epicentre of the jet-set world?
Some of the richest and most powerful men on the planet are buying here. The Emir of Qatar has just bought six islands including Oxia; one of the world’s richest Russians, billionaire businessman Dmitry Rybolovlev has scooped up an island, Skorpios; and in the middle of them, in Meganisi, billionaire banker Lord Jacob Rothschild has bought 8km of land and a small island.

You’ve said that history is repeating itself in the region.
The late shipping billionaire Aristotle Onassis could have chosen anywhere in the universe. What do you do when you own most of Monaco and have billions in gold reserves? Choose Skorpios as your haven, of course. Niarchos – his big rival and another one with all the money and influence in the world – bought Spetsaipoula, a small island off Spetsai. 50 years later, the wheel’s turned full circle – and the most powerful people on the planet are choosing this area again.

For lesser mortals, what if Greece blows up or things get tougher – despite its having been bailed out?
The worst is over. We entered the tunnel first and so can see the light at its end earlier, certainly before Spain or Italy. In Greece the austerity was harsh. People were so worried – but now you see a look on people’s faces of hope and acceptance. We’re quite philosophical. After all, we invented philosophy.

But austerity means that even the rich are now needing to earn extra money by renting their villa, doesn’t it?
The most beautiful villas in the area were never before available for rental. But because of the crisis and the new taxation, even the wealthy are suddenly needing to meet more bills and bring in more money – so a lot of top villas have now come onto the open market. We’ve picked up 25 of them in the last two years. They’re mostly wealthy Athenian’s second houses – summer homes – and investments.

The standard in the rental market has jumped hugely over the last couple of years. A few wealthy Greeks who’ve owned small private islands for decades are also putting them on the market after the government increased property taxes and stretched them too far.

So the new luxury heralds the end of billionaires needing yachts, does it?
The area has been a massive draw for the ultra wealthy for years. They visit in the summer on mega boats – from Hollywood A listers like Tom Hanks and Spielberg, to Roman Abromovitch, Bill Gates and Madonna. The emir of Qatar moored his super-yacht nearby for a holiday. Because there isn’t yet the luxury on shore, they use their own private gin palaces – the £200-700,000-a-week type. But with the new developments in the region, they’re soon going to be able to do luxury on shore.

How are Ionian & Aegean Island Holidays keeping up?
We’re keeping apace of local developments by moving into the luxury market aswell – currently we offer simple to 5*. We’re investing in and improving properties that have settings from paradise – all in incredible locations with sea views and often with direct access to deserted beaches – but whose owners haven’t previously added luxurious décor and fittings.

By offering the owners longer contracts – say three years on a property with exclusivity – we’re getting them to invest more. We’re repositioning ourselves in the region as a luxury product too for clients who want a notch above the rest. Next year, we’ll be able to offer amazing infinity swimming pools, great quality builds and interiors, space and panoramic views. But we’re not talking super luxury.

What are your views on the area going upmarket? On the jet -set coming to land? Party time coming to the region again?
You’ve got the wrong idea if you think it’s going to be party town. You’re more likely to come across parties for patron saints of the islands or a festival to honour the archbishop…. a service in a tiny church followed by free wine, soup and sardines outside plus music and dancing. But it’ll be plain sailing for serious investors like Rothschild. There’s more than enough natural beauty to create something amazing here. All he has to do is design some interesting properties.

There’s a lot going on in the travel business in the region, isn’t there?
There has been fresh interest in the area. Upmarket operators Think Ionian – as in Think Sicily and Think Puglia – have just started here. (They too are going to be running a new weekly charter flight here.) But we’ve already contracted all the best villas since Travelux stopped operating here. The big operators don’t bother with places like Meganisi or Paxos, small islands that are much harder to operate on and are more costly because of boat transfers etc. We have our own boats.

What’s the future look like?
On Meganisi we have thirteen villas and are building two more (at the cost of the owners). Since 2011, we’ve been adding 20 per cent more properties to their portfolio a year, and 50 per cent more in Meganisi alone.

Are you now going into partial ownership?
We’re looking at buying properties with investors. We want to invest in Greece (rather than just contracting) because of the bargains and our commitment to the country.

If you’re not Greek, it’s known to be difficult to do business there. People can be put off by Greece’s red tape and inefficiency, can’t they?
It’s a lot easier these days, foreign investment is very welcome and a lot of the hurdles and red tape has ended. After the last few years of the Troika, the coalition government has simplified Greek laws and made the country as inviting as possible for foreign investment, seeing the importance of growth in addition to austerity. Foreigners like Lord Rothschild will sometimes still get Greek business partners to use as ‘frontmen’ to speed up local processes, but it’s really not necessary these days.

And if you’re buying an island?
Ithaca’s Greek-American mayor, Ioannis Kassianos recently said: ‘When you buy an island, even if you are the emir of Qatar, it takes eighteen months to complete the paperwork.’ But it’s a well-known secret that exceptions can be made for investors of that calibre.

The mayor felt that development plans could also pose problems and that the emir may be set for a long battle with Greek officials over his plans. Regardless of the size of the land, a home can be no bigger than 250 square metres. ‘The emir,’ said Mr Kassianos, ‘responded to that suggestion by saying his WC is 250 square metres.’ But I think the emir will get his 1,000 sq metre loo if he wants it!

You’ve dug deep into your piggie bank and are very committed to the region, aren’t you?
Ionian & Aegean Island Holidays take in four planes weekly from Gatwick, Manchester and Birmingham. As an operator, we’re the most exposed locally, but our clients can always get flights.

What does Lord Rothschild know that we don’t? Why would someone want to buy/rent on Meganisi?
It is not a Corfu or Rhodes, even though Lord Rothschild has an estate in Corfu. Islands like Meganisi don’t even have scheduled international flights. Most operators and purchasers went to Kefalonia, Lefkada, Corfu and Rhodes. Luckily Meganisi has been forgotten. It’s a secret paradise – as naturally beautiful, secluded and unspoiled as it gets – and uniquely peaceful. But it didn’t have the properties to begin with. It’s smaller. (Just 9 square miles.) It kept going quietly with its old, loyal visitors.

The mentality of the people there takes you back in time. They’re quite different, not greedy. They open their homes to visitors, and offer them hospitality. Their attitude to ‘philoxenia’ (friendliness to strangers) surpasses that of any other island. The competition it has faced from neighboring islands has been a blessing in disguise. It’s been a victim in a nice way.

“A thousand pounds for a haircut?!” I hear you say. “But you could feed an African village for a year… buy two Hermès belts… how can any hairdo be worth that sort of money?”

Either you need your head examined, expensively, or you’re tidying topiary for a palace. Who spends a grand on something that’s going to grow out?

The answer is that oligarchs’ wives and assorted A-listers spend £1,000 for a haircut. The likes of Lady Gaga, Linda Evangelista, Michelle Pfeiffer, Salma Hayek and Angelina Jolie. Pippa Middleton goes to the maestro’s salon – or hairspa as it’s known. And the Duchess of Cambridge? If she does, nobody’s saying.

Welcome to the world of Rossano Ferretti, the 53-year-old coiffeur who’s leading a hair revolution. Ferretti is to 2013 what Vidal Sassoon – creator of the five-point cut and Ferretti’s mentor – was to the Sixties.

You haven’t heard of him? That’s forgivable, as he only opened his hairspa in London last year. But he’s ginormous. He has 20 hairspas from Beverley Hills to Milan, is a global spokesman for L’Oreal, runs hair seminars from China to Mumbai, and has world-wide academies where he teaches his approach. He’s the only global hairdressing brand.

Ferretti has more USPs than you’ll find in 16 alphabets. He devised and patented The Method, a unique technique for cutting hair (about which, more later). He has created and patented a special pair of scissors: texturising ones, that snip a delicate 18 per cent instead of the habitual 30.

He claims to have invented the Invisible Cut (full of layers, but you don’t see them). And, along with ace colourist Carl Dawson (who does Kate Moss, Sienna Miller and Gwyneth), is developing a unique hair colouring procedure (watch this space).

The Rossano Ferretti Hairspa experience
But is this all the Emperor’s New Clothes? Are we talking nothing more than clever marketing and gimmickry?

I decide to put my tresses to the test. The Rossano Ferretti Hairspa (all 5,500 square foot of it for just 14 hair stations) is in a four-storey, Georgian townhouse in Mayfair’s St George Street.

A good-looking, besuited doorman spirits me up the sweeping staircase beneath the bespoke Fabergé black glass chandelier. Upstairs there are black floorboards, hair products displayed in antique frames and a 1936 perm machine that belonged to Ferretti’s grandparents. (He is a third generation hairdresser.)

There are no mirrors; another first. Women, he believes, shouldn’t suffer seeing themselves in transition.

And there’s no thudding music. Even the noise of hair dryers is kept to a separate room. Forget hairspa. This is a hair temple.

The Method: a hair innovation
Ferretti appears in a jacket, waistcoat and patterned scarf. (Like the children of the cobbler who has no shoes, he’s bald.) He is stylish, charming and solicitous. He takes my hair in his hands and tuts: “Whoever did this, sorry. This is not the right job for them.” (It was one of the guys at Nicky Clarke’s, actually.)

Then he sprays my hair with essence of unicorn’s tears before taking out his diamond-encrusted platinum scissors. Not really. What he actually does is pick up strands of my hair, let go of them and, as they are falling, snip away. Cutting the hair in motion. The Method.

As he works, we chat about his earlier life, working on catwalk shows for Armani, St Laurent and Dior, and shoots with Richard Avedon. Ferretti started in the trade at 14.

Now he jets from LA (“hair colour city”) to New York (“all about blond and blow out”) to London (“volume and bounce.”)

He did Jennifer Lawrence’s, Kate Hudson’s and Reese Witherspoon’s hair for the Oscars. His has been a meteoric rise from humble beginnings. But how does he justify his charges?

“Quality,” he says. “In the USA people happily pay for it. It’s different in Europe.”

It’s true that Nicky Clarke and Paul Edmonds charge £500 for new clients. But across the Atlantic, Frederic Fekkai, Sally Hershberger and Gibson cost $750, $850 and $950.

“The truth is, I don’t want clients. I’m too busy. I have a brilliant team for doing haircuts.”

As the Italian hairdresser della celebrita cuts my hair, he zeroes in on the way it falls, its structure and texture, rather than forcing it into an unnatural shape.

“The scissors don’t do the haircut, they’re an elongation of my hands,” says Rossano Scissorhands, swooping and curving his body as he works. “I move myself around the hair, not stand there like a stone.”

Hmmm. But doesn’t any halfway decent stylist take note of the natural movement and structure of the hair? And as for the scissors with gaps, aren’t they really just thinning scissors?

He stops and contemplates. “Hair grows vertically and with The Method technique, I cut it holding the scissors vertically, not horizontally,” he replies. “In this way, we achieve a natural movement of the hair which is not geometric or box-like.”

And the scissors? “Usually thinning ones have two blades with teeth. But The Method texturising ones have one plain blade and the other with teeth…” (See a photo gallery on Ferretti’s site.)

Was it worth it?
He takes three inches off my hair. It’s far more than I’d have suggested, though I had told him to do whatever he wanted. Well, you would, wouldn’t you? You don’t go around telling £200–a-second brain surgeons how to work. Fifteen minutes later Ferretti is finished. (OK, a mere £67 a minute.)

The results are fantastic. A sort of bob de nos jours. Full of life. Natural. Flattering. Afterwards friends comment that they’ve never seen my hair looking so good; and my children say it looks professionally blow-dried, permanently.

Crucially, it looks just as good when I wash and go myself. It’s grown-up hair. Hair the way it’s meant to look, not following trends or forced to do things that it doesn’t want to do. Hair that has self -assurance.

When it grows out
But there’s a problem with the haircut: it grows. And I don’t have £1,000 for another. So two months later I take a photo of my original Ferretti-ed head to my local salon and say, “Copy that, please.”

Now I’m not stupid. Granted my local is not a hairspa, but it’s not just any old salon.

It’s owned by a famed snipper, who’s no slouch himself. In his day, he’s done TV presenters and pop stars. And he has a nice view of the railway line. So it should be a bit like taking a designer dress to be copied in India. And I’ve done that a few times.

Anyway, he says “no problem” and chops away. But maybe it’s because his scissors thin by 30 per cent, maybe it’s because he cuts horizontally, but whatever it is, I end up looking like Richard III. And weeping. And £70 poorer.

This means that, just 24 hours later, I find myself paying to have my hair cut – again. This time, the hairdresser, the beautiful Pol Garcia, snips elegantly. He cuts my hair as it falls. He does yoga-style bends around my body. The result has volume, bounce and elegance. It costs £150.

Ah! Did I tell you that he cuts Pippa Middleton’s hair? Oh, and that he works at the Rossano Ferretti Hairspa? Ferretti has a talented team who offer his cuts at a snip of the price.

I’m sold on The Method. One of these days I’d love to have another cut by Ferretti. After all, it only costs 1.4p a follicle.