It's the Oscars tomorrow night and, as usual, my presence is not required.

For this, I thank my lucky stars – primarily the ones in the sky which Brian Cox could name if you asked him, but also the ones covered in chewing gum and spilt Gatorade on Hollywood Boulevard.

I'm not sure what Gatorade is, by the way, but it sounds like the sort of thing you would spill if you encountered a star on Hollywood Boulevard dedicated to, say, Big Bird from Sesame Street, which you might because there actually is one.

Back to the Oscars. What makes me most glad I'm not going to be in LA tomorrow night is all the brouhaha surrounding what people wear. It's not that I don't mind dressing up, but there's a difference between struggling into black tie for a pal's wedding or a British Legion dinner dance and doing it for a televised ceremony watched by a billion people where every inch of your body is going to be scrutinised, photographed, videoed and tweeted about – and that's just by the valet guy who parks your Lexus.

No, the Oscars aren't for me, especially as these days the men are expected not only to dress impeccably but to indulge in a beauty regime every bit as exacting as the one their female counterparts are forced to endure.

Already Simon Cowell is reported to attend award ceremonies with pocket-sized oxygen shots stashed about his person, the better to maintain his glowing healthy look. And of course the pockets he stashes them in may well be in trousers which use the built-in compression fabric favoured by many celebrities on Oscar night. It makes you look a size smaller apparently, though no word on how hard it is to breathe or pee as a consequence.

Some of the more off-kilter beauty treatments being used include leeches (take a bow, Demi Moore, who has admitted using them to detoxify her blood), cupping (a kind of acupuncture once used by Gwyneth Paltrow) and those fish that nibble off the dead skin on your feet. Angelina Jolie is a fan of that one.

Other bonkers beauty regimes doing the rounds of the A-list circuit include one which uses bird droppings – from nightingales, mind you, none of your pigeon poo for our gilded celebrities – and another in which bull's testicles are boiled up to make a protein and hormone-rich hair treatment. What's wrong with Head & Shoulders, I say?

This year something called the Vampire Facelift is also proving very popular. It involves taking an injectable dermal filler – collagen, usually – and mixing it with the patient's own blood. According to one practitioner, it's "a one-two punch" which gives "natural volume and healthier skin". I know even less about one-two punches than I do about Gatorade but it sounds painful, whatever it is. Like I said, I'm glad I'm sitting this one out.

barry.didcock@heraldandtimes.co.uk