I've become totally hooked on Cellex-C. It's an anti-ageing

"I’ve become totally hooked on Cellex-C. It’s an anti-ageing serum and is fantastic. I use it morning and evening and even on my hands, where it has faded those dark spots." Thus spoke Joan Collins, the eternal star of stage and screen, who has lived beneath the burning light of fame. Her words, though clothed in the language of beauty and skin, conceal a truth far deeper than cosmetics. They speak of the human longing to resist the march of time, to hold fast to youth, and to honor the self with rituals of care. For in this small bottle of serum, she discovers not merely vanity, but a symbol of the eternal struggle between mortality and renewal.

The morning and evening rhythm she describes is no small thing. It is a ritual, a vow to tend to the self as carefully as one would tend to a garden. Just as the farmer waters his fields at dawn and dusk, so does Collins apply her elixir, knowing that the daily act itself is as important as the substance. In this we hear the echo of ancient wisdom: that constancy and care are the roots of transformation. A single act matters little, but the repetition of acts—the discipline of ritual—has the power to shape even what seems unchangeable.

The dark spots fading from her hands are more than blemishes erased; they are symbols of age’s grip loosening, of time itself being softened. Yet let us not mistake this for defiance against nature. Rather, it is a partnership: she acknowledges that time leaves its marks, but she also declares that the spirit of care, of self-respect, can diminish their sting. To tend to the body is to honor the vessel through which the spirit acts. It is not vanity, but reverence.

History tells us that even the ancients sought such renewal. Cleopatra, queen of Egypt, bathed in milk and honey to preserve her radiance. Roman matrons crushed herbs and oils to anoint their skin. In Japan, the geisha passed down the art of beauty as discipline, blending rice powder and camellia oil. All knew what Joan Collins affirms: that to care for the body is to express devotion to life itself. In their time it was oils and baths; in hers, it is Cellex-C. The form changes, but the essence remains eternal.

Yet beneath the laughter and sparkle of such practices lies a lesson in courage. For it is no small thing to face the signs of aging and respond not with despair, but with action. To apply the serum is to say: “I still value myself, I still fight for my radiance, I still live as one who has not surrendered.” In this way, Collins teaches that care is not shallow, but heroic. The warrior sharpens his blade; the artist polishes her craft; the woman applies her elixir—all these are gestures of defiance against decline, against the surrender of spirit.

The lesson we may take is this: honor yourself daily, both outwardly and inwardly. Let no one scorn you for tending to your skin, your body, your mind, or your spirit. For discipline in small things becomes strength in great things. Just as the fading of dark spots is proof of the serum’s work, so the fading of despair is proof of ritual care. Do not neglect yourself; for if you cannot tend to your own being, how can you tend to the world?

Practical action is clear: find your own ritual of renewal. For some it may be skincare, for others exercise, meditation, reading, or prayer. The substance is less important than the devotion with which it is done. Morning and evening, carve time to remind yourself that you are worthy of care, that you are still becoming, still glowing, still alive.

Thus Joan Collins speaks not merely of a product, but of a principle: that life demands attention, and that beauty, strength, and dignity are preserved not by chance, but by the steady hand that tends them. Let her words remind us: though time marches, though age comes, those who honor themselves with daily care may carry the flame of youth within, shining outward for all to see.