White power

Ruby Wax makes the point (repeatedly but it still gets a laugh) that the British discovered the practice of brushing their teeth in the 1980s. I dare say our dental hygiene is the butt of more jokes throughout North America, where wearing a brace is something of a fashion statement.

But something strange is happening on our side of the pond. This struck me — in fact, almost blinded me — a couple of weeks ago when a hotel manager introduced himself at a central London gathering and dazzled me. His teeth were super-white. They were super-straight, too, but it was the brilliance that startled me. It was as if someone had told the poor fellow to open wide and poured a pot of Dulux gloss into his mouth.

I couldn’t take him seriously. He might just as well have worn a badge saying ‘Sleazy Salesman.’ In fact, I’m ashamed to say that the whiter someone’s teeth are the less I trust him — or her for that matter. Perhaps that’s why Simon Cowell and his X Factor crowd come across as such phonies, their flashy teeth reflecting their flashy lives.

It’s a growing phenomenon. Just look at the claims of the toothpastes in your local Boots. Long gone is the Colgate ‘ring of confidence’, replaced by Oral B’s ‘3D White Luxe’ range, which includes ‘Perfection’, ‘Healthy Shine’, ‘Glamour Shine’ and ‘Brilliance’. The shelves are groaning with other whitening miracles: gels, strips, drops, polishes, even a floss that boasts of ‘extra whitening power with scrubbing micro-crystals that whitens between teeth’. Mr Cowell is vain, but he might draw the line at fussing over the colour scheme between his gnashers.

There’s a new Listerine mouthwash that claims to ‘whiten teeth in two weeks’, and my head was turned for a few seconds by a toothpaste called Rapid White with its ‘instant whitening system’.