If you have never heard of Dr Nick Lowe, you will have seen his influence on a million pages of glossy magazines. He is the man behind the rise of Botox, who has peeled, pampered and pricked a thousand famous faces. His clients include the facially resculpted Anne Robinson, who says that Dr Lowe took years off her face, though his treatments are strictly non-surgical. High street customers are about to get the Lowe treatment too, with the launch of his new skincare range.

But Dr Lowe keeps very quiet about his celebrity clients. The wood-panelled walls of his office are plastered not with their pictures but “The Best Doctor in America” and “America's Top Physicians” certificates, garnered while working in the US. Alongside them are detailed academic papers on his work investigating eczema, psoriasis, disfiguring birthmarks and skin cancers. There's also an intriguing old picture of Dr Lowe from his Navy days in tropical uniform sitting next to a young man who looks remarkably similar to our future king.

In 30-odd years as an NHS-trained dermatologist working in both the UK and the US, what's set Dr Lowe apart from the beauty therapists and cosmetic surgeons who tempt us with visions of youth is that he has had science as well as celebrity on his side. He's a lecturer at University College London, who until recently treated NHS patients with skin problems as well as private clients.

So it's surprising that this month he's joining a different milieu with the national launch of his own range of cosmetics, exclusively available at Boots. It's proudly proclaimed in its publicity as “the first UK Doctor brand”, alongside familiar “visibly outstanding results” marketing blurb. It's odd because Dr Lowe has been overtly critical of many cosmetics and the way they are marketed. The existing “Doctor brands”, such as Dr Brandt Skincare, Dr Sebagh and NV Perricone MD command high price tags, supposedly reflecting well-researched scientific activity. This has gained them the soubriquet “cosmeceuticals”.

But Dr Lowe is on record as saying that they are overhyped. “It's lifestyle and genetics that are the main influences, and there's only a certain amount that non-prescription creams can do,” he says.

So has the down-to-earth, Wolverhampton-born Dr Lowe gone over to the dark side? I fear, with the launch of his new range, that he can no longer claim expert independence from those who peddle their wares to us.

He looks good for a man of 64

Face to face, his own skin is nothing to write home about, though he admits to having had laser treatment for spider veins, radiofrequency skin tightening and Botox treatment every year for the past 20 years, usually injected by one of his daughters, a trained doctor. He looks good for a man of 64, but nothing miraculous - little crinkles around the eyes, the odd little red patch.

But it's quite reassuring that he looks “real”. Dr Lowe says that Botox and other non-surgical skin treatments have got a bad name because they've been done badly. He did some of the first rigorous studies on the possible applications of Botox for frown lines in the late 1980s while he was working at UCLA in Santa Monica, where he is still clinical professor of dermatology. This laid the ground for Botox's approval by the US drug regulators in 1989.

As soon as Dr Lowe saw its potential, he started using it on himself. Botox was first licensed for cosmetic use in the UK about seven years ago and he says that much of current treatment is “a joke”, mainly because it is administered by people who don't know what they're doing. “Botox is a medical treatment and in Britain the regulations say it has to be given under the supervision of a physician trained in its use. If it's done badly, you can get problems such as asymmetry of the face that can last some time. I'd say just 40 per cent of those having Botox are having it done properly.”

His own Botox treatment started when he noticed a drop of his brows and eyelids. Carefully aimed injections in the forehead immobilise the muscles that pull the brows down, allowing the muscles that lift the brow to have more effect. But a jab in the wrong place, he says, can inactivate the muscles that lift the brow, which, he adds, happens all too often.

Dr Lowe splits his time between LA and London, having set up his practice here 15 years ago to be nearer one of his two daughters, who had started medical training in London. He has houses in Kensington and Santa Monica, which he shares with his wife, a former physiotherapist, who helps him to manage both private clinics. So why risk the considerable business and scientific clout he has built up by allying himself with the product manufacturers? It can't be the money.

“No false promises or miracle fixes”

“The motivation is partly financial,” he says. “But it's also because my patients have asked why my products have been only available at my clinics. But I agree; it's a delicate tightrope.” He says the market needed products that were based on good science but were also reasonably priced (the products cost between £9 and £20), and “offered no false promises or miracle fixes”. What he dislikes about cosmeceuticals is that they suggest one product is the answer to everything.

The new range consists of seven “anti-age” products, such as recovery creams and line erasers to protect the skin against sun, stress and pollution; five “anti-blemish” products, such as spot gels and oil control creams; and two “skin solutions” products for age spots and red patches.

Do they work? Dr Lowe says that trials in independent labs using the most rigorous testing techniques have shown both the safety and efficacy of his products, though he acknowledges the size of the trials was smaller than those conducted by the big cosmetics manufacturers such as L'Oréal and Procter & Gamble. Unlike some skin creams, they have been approved for their sun protection, with an SPF rating. Boots, he emphasises, is extremely strict in its approval process. But, as with all cosmetics, the punter never gets to see the research.

Like many other cosmetics, Dr Lowe's new products include “active” ingredients such as retinoids, which have been proved to have a physical effect on the skin. In high concentrations they are the basis of prescription creams to heal the skin. They are allowed in cosmetics in lower concentrations, which means that many products, such as Dr Lowe's, are at the blurry borderline between a cosmetic and a pharmaceutical.

But what about the inclusion of ingredients such as pomegranate and raspberry, which supposedly bring “superior antioxidant activity”? That doesn't sound very science-based, given inconclusive evidence about the benefits of antioxidants. Dr Lowe disagrees. They have a use in products that protect rather than repair the skin: “There is legitimate research on animals that if antioxidants are delivered at the time of UV radiation, you can reduce skin cancer.”

Avoiding claims that go overboard

But how can the public possibly know whether his products are better than the rest? He acknowledges that there's a problem. “I do think that's a concern. But we have tried to avoid making claims that aren't factual,” he says. “Look for realistic claims.” How do you tell a realistic claim, I ask. “Claims that don't go too overboard,” he answers. Doesn't his claim “Contains liquorice, which helps brighten and even out skin tone” sound overboard too, if you don't have the research papers to hand? He thinks. “I agree,” he acknowledges. “It's hard for people to be sufficiently critical.”

Dr Lowe tries hard to massage the scientist's outlook into the superficialities of beauty. The fit isn't an entirely easy one. His slightly barky Midlands accent rings more of the parade ground than the consulting room. It's partly explained by the fact that he arrived where he did by chance. The son of a nurse and a salesman, he funded his training as a doctor through an Armed Forces sponsorship scheme. So after three years' medical training at Liverpool University, he joined the Navy in the late 1960s as a medical officer at Chatham dockyard. Most of his patients had skin disorders, servicemen returning from the Far East with sun damage, dockyard workers with eczema, skin infections and rashes as a result of the materials they were handling. That sparked his interest. While on a voyage to the West Indies, his ship picked up the Prince of Wales, who was a shipmate for two months. Hence the picture.

His debt to the Navy paid after five years, he became a senior registrar in dermatology at a teaching hospital in Liverpool, and got a research fellowship at UCLA in 1974, looking into animal models of skin ageing. Unlike the NHS, the US offered an opportunity to combine clinical work with research, mainly into the use of ultraviolet light and lasers to treat disease and promote the growth of healthy skin. Handily, there were plenty of film actors and affluent sun-soakers on his doorstep eager to try out his rejuvenating techniques.

He admits to being obsessed about his health, perhaps as a result of picking up Californian attitudes. He applies a daily sunscreen on his hands, face and neck, which is especially important because he has an allergy called polymorphous light eruption, which appears on his hands if exposed to too much sunlight.

Yet while he has an obvious concern about his appearance, he says that he would never consider having full-blown cosmetic surgery. “It should always be a last resort,” he says. “I'm a great believer in treatments that are safe and reversible.” All in all, surprisingly for a man so dependent on it, he seems ambivalent about society's increasing fascination with staying young. Isn't there a point, I ask, where people just have to accept that they are going to look old? “I agree,” he says. “If I get to 70, I might just quietly say I'll let it go. I've always thought I might go back to academic dermatology.”

Dr Lowe skincare is available from larger Boots stores nationwide. Call 08450 708090

Explore Women

• Fashion

• Beauty

• Diet & Fitness

• Relationships

• Families

• Celebrity

• Body & Soul

• The Way We Live

Times recommends

• The dirty weekend guide to Europe
• Sharing the McCanns’ hell
• Steve Coogan, weathering the storms