First there is the canister which, if it comes from a premium brand like Estée Lauder or Lancôme, will be satisfyingly substantial, smooth and heavy as a pebble. The cap will be secured by a reassuringly solid click, the sound - in miniature - of an expensive car door shutting. Then there is the multi-symbolic act of applying rich, red colour to your mouth. Let's not go into particulars. Suffice it to say that you don't get the same kind of hit from smudging a bit of kohl over your eyelids.

The "research" - a kindly term for the surveys commissioned by PR companies and beauty product websites - certainly bears out the theory that, in times of economic hardship, women regard lipstick as an essential rather than a luxury. One such recent report from feelunique.com stated that one-third of British women would prefer to save money by eating less than curtail their spending on beauty items. Meanwhile, over at the benighted Bank of England female economists were recently briefed that the best way to weather the current crisis was to wear high heels and, yes, a slash of bright lippy.

Whether men's cosmetics will be impacted in the same way remains to be seen. It seems unlikely. When dedicated male skincare first made its appearance 25 years ago, companies were careful to name individual products as if they were designing them for the car rather than the face. Indeed, Clinique still calls its toner for men "scruffing lotion".

Since then the appearance of the metrosexual - a man so secure in his masculinity that he is unfazed by the implications of wearing moisturiser - has meant that manufacturers could release endless iterations of male skincare lines with the guarantee of healthy sales.