Through the looking glass ... Take time for glamour

Is there anywhere more glamorous and intimate than a woman's dressing table? No, says Sally Albermarle, who explores the charms of the powder room. Also, London's most high-maintenance women reveal their inner sanctums to Hannah Nathanson

We live in an era of multi-tasking, where life is a Cirque du Soleil juggling act. So is it any surprise that the dressing table, that place of glamorous reflection, both mental and physical, should be enjoying a revival? Indelibly associated with Hollywood glamour, the dressing table is a place a woman can claim as her own, a corner of calm and beauty to start and end the day; a sanctuary and a battle station at which to take stock of her armoury, 'a place to indulge one's fancies and compose one's soul' according to the American design writer Akiko Busch's book the Geography of Home. I am always amazed at what a few moments at a dressing table, sweeping on mascara and lip gloss, can do for my wellbeing.

The basic props are a small table, mirror and stool. Mine is a rather Spartan table my mother-in-law gave me five years ago. My first ever dressing table, I have become passionate about it. It has a separate Georgian mahogany mirror and three little drawers for hair accessories, powders and lipsticks. As a teenager I loved the romance of the dressing table: at home, in our Lausanne apartment overlooking Lake Geneva, my mother had a classic kidney-shaped table with little curtains. It was when travelling with my parents, my father was a scientist and an entrepreneur, and staying in the Ritz in Paris or the Savoy in London, that I became drawn to the magic of a glamorous dressing table.

Elizabeth Hurley, also a fan, has 'a gorgeous, pale, 1920s dressing table' bought at Valerie Wade on the Fulham Road. 'I sit at it every day for hair but do my make-up standing up at a bathroom mirror as I'm so short-sighted.' The designer, Allegra Hicks believes her simple affair in 1940s sharkskin is 'the old-fashioned symbol for feminity'.

The dressing table inevitably becomes a shrine, revealing your character through your possessions. On mine you will divine not only my prefered beauty brands – Crème de la Mer, Clinique and Sisley – but also facets of my personality through my scents – the feminine Guerlain L'Instant and Tom Ford's mysterious, dark Black Orchid. There's a 1930s crystal perfume bottle, my baby rattle, a good-luck pig made out of cork and pushpins, my dream Mercedes 1963 Pagoda toy car, photos of my seven-year-old son Augustus, a pin-hole wedding photograph of my wedding and various necklaces. I always try to have a fresh rose or other cut flower in a small vase.

When the dressing table originated in France during the 18th century, it was used by both men and women. It consisted of a table, mirror, brushes, make-up and powder and was called the 'toilette'. This originated from the word 'toile', referring to the cloth which was draped over the shoulders while the hair was dressed. Thus, the expression faire sa toilette came into parlance, describing the entire process of hair- and body-care. This preparation became a social occasion, with visitors recived for the levee. Already then, the self-indulgent dressing table had great significance: as Alexander Pope wrote in The Rape of the Lock in the early 1700s: 'And now, unveil'd, the toilet stands display'd/ Each silver vase in mystic order laid.'

In the 20th century the word 'vanity' was added and in the 1950s, in post-war America, when men were men and women were immaculate, time at the dressing table was an essential part of a woman's routine.

These days, working women do not have time for such fripperies. But, increasingly, we are realising that we do need to make space for the dressing table, for our own health and happiness. Countless leading ladies including Sophie Dahl, Alice Temperley and Susannah Constantine love this indulgent little luxury. And I, for one, will never be without mine.

Goga Ashkenazi
The hit of the summer 'We No Speak Americano' blasts from all corners of Goga's dressing quarters, 'keeping the mood' in her Holland Park mansion, where the controversial Kazakh oil and gas billionairess has lived for two years. The music contrasts with the serene white marble bathroom designed by David Collins where Goga, 30, gets ready for everything from a day at the office to an evening entertaining her friend Prince Andrew in her Art Deco dining room. 'I spend most of my time in here but I can also be a soldier and do the job in 15 minutes.' The marble was sourced from Italy. 'I'm a perfectionist so white is the best colour: it shows every speck of dirt that needs to be removed.'

Goga grew up in Moscow (her father was a member of the Central Committee under Gorbachev) where a swanky dressing table was not considered essential. Today, decorating Goga's table are various souvenirs: a Fred Segal jewellery box from LA and a bottle of Solange Azagury-Partridge Stoned perfume from an ex-boyfriend which has been refilled with a Hermessence scent. The MAC make-up is arranged with OCD precision in side cupboards and doesn't, says Goga, get used often: 'I don't wear too much because it makes me look old.'

Goga's dressing table is a sociable place. 'When my sister Meuret or friends come round we all get ready in here.' She turns on her Camilla Skovgaard heels and disappears into her dressing room, a floor-to-ceiling display of colour-coordinated designer dresses, Louboutin heels, McQueen clutches and the red Philip Treacy hat she wore to accompany Prince Andrew to the Royal Box at Ascot. Goga says: 'I love the space I have for dressing. It helps me unwind at the end of a busy day and puts me in a playful mood.'

Petra Ecclestone
Daughter of Formula 1 boss Bernie Ecclestone and the Croatian former Armani model Slavica, Petra, 21, is luminous against the backdrop of her jet-black dressing room with her St Tropez tan and Goldilocks hair. The room takes up a full floor of the seven-storey Eaton Square house she shares with her businessman boyfriend James Stunt. It just says Hollywood glamour,' she explains. Light pours in through a large sash window, picking up the metallic finish of the room's focus, a 1940s dressing table designed by American furniture-maker James Mont, bought only seven months ago. It's the perfect place to do my hair and make-up; the natural light helps me to check I've got the right shades. It's also great for storing my products.' There's plenty to store, from Chanel and YSL foundations to her favourite Nars lip glosses in Orgasm and Chihuahua.