A doctor's 'Golden Ratio' formula claims to tell you if you're beautiful. So how did these brave writers measure up...

Alice Hart-Davis, 61  

We like to think that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Yet the way our eyes assess a face comes down, it seems, to cold hard numbers — and a mathematical formula known as the ‘Golden Ratio’.

This classic ratio, or ‘divine proportion’, dates back to the Ancient Greek scholar Pythagoras, and was later used by Leonardo da Vinci to paint the face of the Mona Lisa.

Today, Harley Street plastic surgeon Dr Julian De Silva has devised software which uses the golden ratio and facial mapping technology to measure beauty.

Rating: 86.61%

A front-facing, non-smiling photograph – think your best passport shot – is scanned into the computer and out comes a series of complicated calculations derived from the measurement of a dozen angles and distances across the face.

‘The premise is that the closer the ratios of a face are to the number 1.618 (also know as ‘Phi’), the more beautiful they become,’ he explains.

Dr De Silva found actress Anya Taylor-Joy¿s face, at almost 95 per cent, came closest to the Ancient Greeks¿ idea of the most beautiful woman

Dr De Silva found actress Anya Taylor-Joy’s face, at almost 95 per cent, came closest to the Ancient Greeks’ idea of the most beautiful woman

‘There are many measurements on the face which adhere to the Phi ratio – the distance between the eyes compared with the length of the eyes, for example. The analysis shows whether your features are in proportion with themselves and with the rest of the face.’

Dr De Silva found actress Anya Taylor-Joy’s face, at almost 95 per cent, came closest to the Ancient Greeks’ idea of the most beautiful woman.

I score a flattering 86.61, but I’ve had so many procedures that my looks owe more to cosmetic practitioners than genes. I’ve had Botox, fillers, skin-tightening and two eye lifts. Also, this is a professional photo. Trust me, I don’t look like this on an average morning!

 

Liz Jones, 65

Rating: 79.55 

I’m bottom! I am always bottom. Oh, thank God Dr Julian De Silva was not holding his set square next to my actual bottom. Just my face.

Should we really be judging ourselves in this way, comparing our faces to the likes of supermodels and actresses (many of whom, after all, get cosmetic surgery and have their photos airbrushed)?

Isn’t it so much more important to be funny and kind, and brimful of anecodotes about an interesting career?

But then I see my jawline scores 90 per cent and I’m thrilled! Yes! Not much behind Bella Hadid, who got a score of 94.35 pc. I’m always looking at female newscasters and thinking, ‘She’s younger than me, but look at her neck!’ Apparently, according to Dr De Silva, I have a ‘wonderfully refined nose’, which scores 86 per cent; and ‘beautifully arched brows’, scoring 90 per cent. That’s just one percentage point behind Zendaya, 27. And eight percentage points above Margot Robbie, 33.

But, as the second-oldest participant, Dr De Silva reminds me: ‘The ageing process affects us all.’

The truth is, I believe the ‘Golden Ratio’ – equivalent to the swimsuit section of Miss World – is a load of tosh. Imperfections are what make us interesting.

I hate the way I look, always have. To this day, I still refuse to look up into the hairdresser’s mirror to confront my face. I don’t need some man to tell me I’ve been right all along.

 

Clara Gaspar, 26 

Rating: 86.55% 

The concept of a plastic surgeon analysing my face was mildly terrifying. But what a result! With 86.5 per cent – a fraction of a point behind Helen Mirren – there are no complaints from me, although I am surprised by the score’s breakdown.

I was nicknamed ‘tennis-ball head’ by my parents, due to the roundness of my face as a child, and I longed for a more chiselled jaw.

So the news that, at 98 per cent, I have a ‘truly exceptional’ jawline (in the words of Dr De Silva) is surprising indeed. It’s a credential I will be adding to my CV.

Nor have I ever paid particular attention to my forehead. An oversight, it seems, since it scored 96 per cent.

I’d say that was an eyebrow-raising score, but having seen the measly score given to my brows (81 per cent), I’m going to have to get them evened out and frozen in place with Botox.

But the worst score goes to my chin. Why so low!? It’s never been a feature I’ve been bothered about, but Dr De Silva has unlocked a new insecurity. What on earth can one do about a wonky chin?

Meanwhile, my somewhat beaky nose, inherited from my father, has been something I’d wanted to change.

I wonder what ‘tweakments’ Dr De Silva would recommend to bring me closer to that all-important ‘Golden Ratio’. Plumper lips, perhaps? Chin filler? No wonder there are so many online forums among my age group posting pictures of jawlines and noses and asking strangers for cosmetic surgery recommendations.

Of course, I’m sure that if I did sort out that weak chin and those pesky eyebrows, I’d find something else to worry about. Such is life as a woman in her 20s!

 

Amanda Platell, 66 

Rating:82.27% 

Dr De Silva’s bewildering conclusion that I have a ‘beautiful’ face, scoring 82.27 per cent – just five per cent below the Princess of Wales and Angelina Jolie – was a truly laugh-out-loud moment.

He rated me highly on the ‘harmony’ of my nose and my lips, which scored 91 per cent. Lucky he didn’t get a picture of me in profile showing off the famous Platell schnozz.

Even my former husband used to say: ‘Mandy, your nose is too big, your mouth is too wide, your eyes too far apart, but I love you anyway.’ Me, a beauty? Crikey, I proudly passed myself off as a boy until my mid-teens.

The kindest thing anyone has ever written about me is that I am ‘handsome’, which I believe is a fair if not entirely flattering description.

I have big features although, thankfully, I inherited my mother’s delicate high cheekbones and her full bow-shaped mouth, plus my dad’s solid chin, which scored me 89 per cent.

So I totally disagree with Dr De Silva’s analysis. I have never for one moment been considered or even felt beautiful.

But despite a few setbacks along the way, I’ve always been, as is the Platell mantra, not just a glass half full but a glass overflowing sort of person. I’ve smiled a lot – and it now shows in my face.

With apologies to Dr De Silva, I’m content to say my optimism, my joy in life, is the closest I’ll ever get to being beautiful.

 

Sarah Vine, 57 

Rating: 82.85% 

Very kind of Dr De Silva, but I’ve never even thought of myself as much of a looker, let alone ‘exceptionally beautiful’ — his words. Like many women, I only notice the flaws.

When I was about 17, someone told me I had a short neck and a heavy jawline, and I’ve been paranoid about both ever since.

But now that an actual doctor has said my lip-to-nose ratio beats Anya Taylor-Joy’s, at 95.7 per cent, I shall dine out on that as often as possible.

It’s interesting also that I scored well on eye position (92 per cent). I was always told my eyes were slightly too close together.

In truth, I’m not sure how much these measurements truly matter. I know they appeal to some deep-seated core of our reptilian brains, the part of us that is purely instinctive. But beauty is about so much more than a person’s static appearance. It’s also to do with the way a person moves, their expressions, their charisma.

Some of the most beautiful women in the world have odd features, but when they’re brought to life, it all just comes together.

That’s why the surgically modified faces — the ubiquitous ‘lip flip’, the cheekbones heightened with filler, the exaggerated cat’s eyes — you see now on many celebrities and wannabes is so eerie. In theory, it ought to work; but in practice everyone just ends up looking somewhat alien. That loss of individuality and uniqueness is a great shame in my opinion.

Ultimately, there’s more to beauty than geometry.

If you love someone, if they have a wonderful personality, if they are incredibly kind – that’s a type of beauty in itself. And arguably a better sort.

 

Daisy Buchanan, 39 

Rating 82.2% 

Initially, I was delighted with my 82.2 per cent – but as I studied the maths and compared my results with the others, I didn’t feel great about it.

I always thought my relationship with my body was complicated: the one I have with my face might be even trickier, as there’s less that I can do about it.

I’ve always wondered what it would like to be beautiful and experience that power. Still, I’ve always been comforted and inspired by a Henry James line about a character who isn’t beautiful ‘but she carries her head like a pretty woman’. Confidence goes a long way.

The trouble is, it’s very hard to feel confident when your pros and cons have been weighed, measured and presented like exam results. And I can’t sit any retakes.

Once every three years, I see a photo of myself that makes me think about getting a nose job. But when I think about the expense, I realise I’d rather go on holiday.

Prettiness isn’t guaranteed, no matter how much money you spend. I’d like to look, and be, happy – and I don’t think surgery is going to make me any happier.

When I’m drawn to beautiful people, it’s usually because they’re extraordinarily vivacious. And that’s something I can have a go at, as long as I’ve had a good night’s sleep and I’m well hydrated.

My mother’s tip for looking good is ‘Think beautiful thoughts’. I now suspect she’s onto something.