Ran into an old friend this week whose breast size had doubled since the last time I saw her.
I wasn't going to say anything - not even something subtle like "Holy medicine balls, Kate! That's quite a blouse of fun you're packing."
As it transpired I didn't need to: Kate gushingly informed me the boob job had been a spectacular application of her husband's Christmas bonus - "so much more exciting than sticking it on the mortgage!"
The transformation had also inspired her to start injecting botox and collagen.
It's rare that I have nothing at all to contribute to a conversation, being so incredibly full of shyte much of the time, but I found myself simply staring at Kate with a slack expression - and a sudden desire to dive into the nearest bush.
In the end I gave her a quick catch-up cuddle (okay, yes, I wanted to see if they felt like stress balls) and said: "Well, you look great. But then, you always did, Kate."
And she did. And I'll tell you why: Kate has great hair.
Say what you like about western beauty - it's all in the hair.
You can have great boobs, tidy curves, a designer wardrobe and skin sandblasted within an inch of its life, but if you've got a bad hairdo, you can just take the whole expensive shebang back home again.
Look at any of those ridiculous makeover shows and you'll see that nothing is complete - indeed, nothing even rates - until that final kick-arse blow-dry.
"Jenny has lost 15kg, had her ears pinned back, nose lopped off, gained a personal stylist and $50,000 worth of new clothes. Not impressed yet?
"We've also straightened her hair!" Cue wild applause.
Imagine Jennifer Aniston without her trademark locks. Katie Holmes without her cutesy bob? J-Lo without that voluminous mane?
Britney Spears looked positively insane after she shaved her head. It's conceivable to think even Elle Macpherson or Jennifer Hawkins might too.
If the eyes are the window to the soul, then a woman's hair is the curtains.
It follows that a woman's hairdresser is one of the most influential people on earth, wielding the power to utterly reshape a woman's self-esteem, to broadcast her personality from the root tops, to lop years off her life, to change her very being from the outside in. A great hairdo can turn a bad week into a fantabulous year.
Hairdressers aren't paid enough and I have recently added them to my list of causes - just under kindy teachers, midwives and the people that make cleanskin wines.
Not only is their craft an almost priceless skill, but there are so many ancillary skills required of the modern stylist.
They must be great listeners, filling the emotional void created by workaholic husbands and screaming kids.
They must also be queens of compassion.
After my mother endured the devastating Mackay floods back in February, I took her to my local hairdresser, Helen, for a cheer-up do.
Helen introduced mum to the entire salon as a "tragic flood survivor" (never mind that her house had actually been high and dry).
She made Mum share many tales of families who'd lost all their precious memories, then she gave Mum the scalp massage of her life and a whole new look completely on the house.
Mum can't wait for the next natural disaster.
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