Socialite Sharel Ho says inner beauty is more important than what is on the outside. At the same time, she is well aware that she has a million-dollar image to project.

Seated in the waiting room of upscale spa LS Philosophy in Scotts Road, the 36-year-old managing director of Jewels DeFred raises a hand self-consciously to her face. 'I didn't know you would take pictures,' she says.

She has come to the spa for a facial ahead of the 50th anniversary ball of Her World magazine on April 23. It is the first step in a preparation routine for the event that takes nearly seven hours and she has not put on the 'minimal' make-up she goes with on normal days - namely, lip gloss and false eyelashes.

Her all-black ensemble is more for comfort than style. She is wearing a $700 tube dress from Stella McCartney, open-toed sandals from Pedder Red (between $100 and $200) and the furry $2,000 bag on her arm that looks as if it is about to meow is from Givenchy.

'My keyphrase is 'inner beauty is real beauty',' she says before explaining her concerns about being photographed without make-up. 'Image is the way you communicate with people. You will never have a second chance to make an impression.'

Married to the eponymous Fred who owns the shop she runs, she has been a familiar face at society events for years, notably since making the finals of the 2007 Mrs Singapore beauty pageant. Later that same year, she signed on to represent South-east Asia in the international contest, Mrs Globe.

The mother of two daughters aged seven and 10 admits that this is not a lifestyle she was born into. While waiting for her preferred beautician to become available, she chats easily about her 'humble' origins in Ipoh. Her father managed logistics for a trading company and her mother took care of the children. She is the youngest of four daughters and two sons.

A former Singapore Airlines stewardess, she met her husband, a businessman from Hong Kong, when she was taking business courses in 1997. They married the next year.

For almost a decade after that, she says, she was content to stay 'behind the scenes' as a 'good wife and mother'. Then the path into the social whirl opened 'very naturally', around the time she signed up for beauty pageants.

'From then onwards, people began to know who I was because I became a fashion statement,' she says, adding that this has led to 'extra tasks'.

Asked to elaborate, she explains: 'When you are a high society lady, people expect you to be tip-top. When you walk out, people look up to you.'

She controls her daily diet rigorously, visits hair salons every alternate day, endures gym workouts with a personal trainer three times a week and also finds time for a monthly facial, body massage, manicure, pedicure, eyebrow embroidery or touch-up, not to mention skin tightening via radio frequency. This last treatment apparently gets rid of cellulite by heating up the body tissues.

When preparing for a social event such as this year's Her World anniversary ball, she has her hair, nails and make-up done by professionals.

While she limits herself to two functions a week so that she can be at home with the children, she will make time for about 10 balls a year, because they give her a chance to dress up.

'I enjoy the process, going from nothing to something. It's like being a bride-to-be once a month,' she says.

She always begins with a facial to moisturise the skin and allow her make-up to 'set' properly.

At LS Philosophy, she barely glances at the spa menu before asking for a tried and trusted remedy - the $300 Red Carpet Facial, which takes about 90 minutes to prepare women for that special social evening.

Her face is cleaned with moist cotton pads, then creamed, exfoliated and steamed. Few words are exchanged in the first 45 minutes as she closes her eyes and surrenders to the patting and petting.

Then she battles the beautician's probing fingers to say: 'If you have any questions, you can ask.'

An enquiry into her daily routine releases a torrent of information. She starts with a health supplement of Omega-3 capsules and a spoonful of Manuka honey with royal jelly. The bee by-products supposedly keep skin beautiful, as does the sachet of pearl powder she takes next in a glass of water.

She usually sleeps around 2am and wakes at 11am, unless she is indulging in her newest passion of daytrading, in which case she is up at 8.30am to check the market. The maid ensures that the children are taken to school.

Breakfast is yoghurt, with some fruit perhaps. Lunch and dinner depend on the weighing scale.

She scrutinises her weight daily, saying: 'I don't want to see more than 50kg on the scale.' She stands at 1.65m in her socks and opts for just soup, fish and vegetables on days when the needle hovers treacherously.

Three times a week, she has her 60- to 90-minute workouts at the Tanglin Club gym, often with the club's trainer. She focuses on problem areas such as her tummy and, if worried about water retention, heads to the steam room at Raffles Town Club to sweat it out.

She may go into the office for two or three hours a day, usually to instruct her personal assistant on what needs to be done. At times, she may have to entertain overseas clients. She also spends a couple of hours a day to check the stock market and talk to her broker.

'People think I'm a tai tai, but I'm not. I like beautiful things, I dress well but I classify myself as a businesswoman,' she says, while the beautician smears an eggy 'anti-ageing mask' onto her skin.

As the mask works its magic, she talks about how hard it is to maintain her figure.

'My weakness is junk food such as Twisties and Fanta. I cannot resist,' she says with a sigh. A few packets always find their way into the cart when she goes grocery shopping with her daughters - it is how they bond.

The beautician wipes her face clean of the mask, gives her cheeks a final pat, then leaves her to dress.

After putting on her clothes, she heads back to the atrium, where she is served a skin supplement pill with a glass of mineral water. It is the key last step of the facial.

'You can see the difference?' Mrs Ho asks, tilting her head slightly.

A day later is the all-important hairstyle, which she has scheduled along with a manicure and pedicure at Chez Vous in Ngee Ann City. She has chosen her top carefully - a front-zipping Armani Exchange tube that can be removed without disturbing her hair or make-up.

She has decided on her dress for the event, an orange Calvin Klein gown. She explains the look she wants to hairstylist Thomas Teo.

She has brought along a photo of a model cut out from a magazine for his reference. This is a habit dating from her childhood in Ipoh, when she would show her mother fashion magazines and demand clothes made in exactly that style for Chinese New Year.

Even now, she often designs or tweaks her designer dresses. For the ballgown, she has had two feathery armbands specially made and dyed to match by Heng Nam Nam tailors at Park Mall.

The make-up artist telephones her. It is nearly time for her next appointment but her nails are still being painted and she wants Mr Teo to smoothen her hair further on one side.

She has to be helped out of the chair, into her shoes and to the counter. An assistant takes her wallet from her and pays the bill - $142 for the  one and a half hour service.

Then it is a quick dash to the car park, the barely ready belle bemoaning the fact that her driver has just given notice. This means she has to drive her red BMW herself across the road to Paragon Shopping Centre, where it will be parked by a valet.

The traffic on the road upsets her by adding to the delay. It is nearly 4pm and the ball at the Capella Singapore hotel in Sentosa is to begin at 7pm.

At Vive Salon, she relaxes in the hands of her make-up artist, whom she has known for four years. They gossip about mutual acquaintances as Mrs Ho props the reference picture on the table. She has brought along six pairs of false eyelashes to augment the stylist's own cache. One from each arsenal is glued carefully onto each eyelid, extending a startling 2cm forward.

'Lashes brighten up your eyes,' she says. 'My lipstick will be nude, so attention will be on the eyes.'

Affixing and lavishly styling the lashes takes up most of the 80-minute procedure, which costs $158. Then it is another mad dash to the valet station and from there, to the Ho residence in Stevens Road.

Reaching her penthouse apartment at 5.30pm, she hugs her daughters Khai Lie, 10, and Khai Ling, seven, and asks them to call their father. He will be driving her to the ball and picking her up later. Only she is invited to the event.

She asks for drinks to be brought for the guests as she goes to her dressing room, which has wall-to-wall closets, a screened-off changing area, an open bathtub and a make-up table with giant mirrors.

The room houses her 100 pairs of shoes, mainly four-inch stilettoes, and 'probably hundreds' of gowns that have to be hung up. Another series of closets lines the corridors and the bedrooms. These hold her more casual clothes as well as those of her husband and daughters.

'I have the most clothes,' she says honestly.

Calling out again to her daughters to check where their father is, she shimmies into the gown. As Khai Ling helps her with the zip, Mrs Ho looks at herself in the mirror.

She has only had soup and yoghurt today, but that is not as bad as the week before the Singapore Tatler Society photo shoot. She had to count every morsel in order to fit into a Herve Leger outfit.

For this event, she will just follow normal practice - peck at the dishes and skip dessert.

Looking at a full glass of orange juice, she asks: 'Is this yours?', then reconsiders and does not take a sip.

Dusting herself with perfume from Stella McCartney, she slips into Italian- made Claudio stilettoes, silver with four-inch heels in the shape of mermaids.

Her husband arrives close to 7pm and exclaims 'Wah!' when he sees her. After hugging the children, he ushers her to the car, seating her in the back and helping her arrange the skirts of her gown.

There is one final stop before heading to the hotel - at the Jewels DeFred store at Mandarin Gallery, to pick up her necklace and earrings.

'Usually I will wear the jewellery I have at home but I seldom wear necklaces, so I don't keep them,' she explains.

People stare as she swishes through the mall. Inside the store, the 22-carat diamond necklace and six-carat diamond drop earrings are waiting.

It is nearly 7.30pm as she turns around, smiling broadly as she shows off her roughly $800,000 ensemble. 'The earlier photographs won't be so nice,' she says as the camera clicks.

Heads turn again as she lifts the skirts of her gown and walks through the mall to her car. She smiles and waves as the window goes up, making a gentle plea amid the thanks and goodbyes: 'Choose pretty photographs for the article, okay?'

As the car moves away, the last sight is of Cinderella, primped, polished and prepped for the ball - and clearly feeling like a million dollars.