First, I find out what my wife is going to be wearing. If she is wearing pink, then I choose a pink shirt. We have to blend.

As long as I don't keep falling over when I am trying to put on my socks, it takes me about 10 minutes to get ready. Attempting to balance a mirror to see the back of my head takes the most time. I used to be able to fill the little hole, but now there's no chance. It bothers me for one minute when I see the back of my head and when I see a photograph. I look like my great-grandfather.

I used to make a dry martini before a night out, but I can't drink since discovering my diabetes (which seems to be the fashionable thing to have, now Tom Hanks has it). I am now slightly addicted to Coke Zero mixed with non-alcoholic beer. I look like a man drinking that.

I have a uniform of blazer and slacks. It can be worn on all occasions except those that call for black tie or a lounge suit (which is a misnomer, because it gives the impression that you can be lounging around in your pyjamas, which is not the case).

Hopefully, I am confident about the zip on my trousers. They say that the beginning of senility is when you forget to zip up; and the worst comes when you forget to zip down.

Always have a clean shirt. A wedding ring, a signet ring and a nice watch is enough jewellery for a man. And never wear socks that expose any of your calf when you cross your legs.

My trick to feeling good on a night out is to ask my wife how we're doing. She says, "You're wonderful", and I believe her.

• Roger Moore's Last Man Standing: Tales From Tinseltown is published by Michael O'Mara Books at £20. To order a copy for £16, with free UK p&p, call 0330 333 6846 or go to theguardian.com/bookshop.