The Scottish Government is making available a smartphone app which demonstrates the deleterious effect too much alcohol can have on the coupon.

This latest weapon in the war on bevvy is a variation on the picture of Dorian Gray in the attic. Fresh-faced boozers take a photo of themselves and the app alters the image to show how excess imbibing will speed up the ageing process.

Expect broken veins on the cheeks, a purple nose like WC Fields, bloodshot eyes, a bloated face and deep wrinkles. Just be thankful the app does not take a snap of the liver.

Many people probably already have on their phone or iPad an app which achieves much the same effect as this new drinking time machine. It will be called something like Fat Face, Zombify, or Age-Me.

But we don't need smartphone apps to chart alcohol-inflicted damage.

Just use some old technology. Such as a mirror.

The mirror is a reflective device which has been around in its beta-testing mode since Neanderthal man first looked in a puddle of water. Mirror 2.0 was in use in Turkey around 6000BC. The iMirror hand-held glass-coated version was developed in Lebanon in the first century AD.

A quick look in the mirror the morning after a heavy drinking session may reveal an unhealthy pallor, eyes which resemble animal markings in snow, and a mysterious facial cut you don't remember getting. If you are brave enough, examine the tongue. It may look exactly as it tastes – like the bottom of the budgie's cage.

Other day-to-day items can be more useful than a smartphone app in tracking inappropriate use of alcohol. Like shoes. Waking up on the bed with your shoes still on is a classic symptom. Remember, the headache, nausea, and lethargy are not allergic reactions to leather.

The duvet can be a useful diagnostic tool. If you're still under the duvet at 2pm when you should have been at your work at 9am, you probably have drink-related issues.

Check your pockets. Worry if you find £15 in small change but no sign of the £100 you got out of the cash machine. If the small change is neatly stacked in rows on your bedside table you are a drunk with an obsessive neatness complex.