Fatal vanity

The tragic consequences of unnecessary plastic surgery have been shown yet again with the death of a 33 year old Dublin man who was afraid his wife would leave him for a better-looking man.

After extensive cosmetic surgery in Colombia, which his 23 year old wife begged him not to have, he died of a heart attack. She said she had lost “the most beautiful thing” in her life, and had been left to look after a new baby.

But Pierre Lawlor was convinced he was "fat and ugly and had big ears" and was terrified his young Venezuelan wife Andrea would leave him for one of his friends. So he arranged for liposuction plus work on his eyes, cheekbones, nose and neck.

The surgery proved disastrous and the Dublin coroner concluded that the physical strain of the lengthy procedures had led to a cardiac arrest.

Andrea had told him he was "foolish" to get the surgery. "I didn't think he needed it," she said. "He was paranoid all the time about his looks and getting old and what people would think when they see us together."

The huge risks of plastic surgery, even for fit and healthy people, are constantly trivialised but are very real. It’s crazy to embark on it if it’s purely for reasons of vanity and insecurity.

Even if he thought he was not too attractive and was maybe disappointing his wife, he should have accepted the risk of her going off with someone else rather than having himself ‘improved’. Who knows, she might not have liked the so-called ‘improvements’ anyway. We all know how false and unnatural such surgery can make people look.

It seems he had the same problem of distorted body image that many women have. He was convinced he was ugly even though his wife denied it, and he just refused to listen to her. What he really needed wasn’t surgery but some serious counselling on his abnormal view of himself.

No regrets

Some people are weighed down with regrets about their life. They shouldn't have done this or that, they should have had a different job, a different man, a different personality.

But I can honestly say I've never regretted anything in my life. It's taken strange twists and turns, some fortunate and some less fortunate, some happy and some miserable, but all in all my life has turned out well and I can't recall anything so disastrous I would want to rewrite it.

It must be heartbreaking to have serious regrets, to believe that some fatal decision you made decades ago has ruined your life, and to wish fervently that you could go back and do something quite different.

It amuses me sometimes to imagine parallel scenarios, how my life might have turned out if I'd made other choices or been another sort of person. Suppose I'd been a woman, or been more self-confident or gregarious or virile or gifted.

Yes, my life would have been rearranged. But I'm not convinced it would have been more rewarding or more enjoyable. The grass is not always greener on the other side.

Maybe I'm just very lucky. I've never known anything so catastrophic that I've desperately wanted to undo it. I've never caused anyone's death. I've never lost a child. I've never been tortured or raped. Whatever's happened to me has always been reversible or repairable.

Like anyone else, I've had plenty of negative experiences. I've been jilted, betrayed, ostracised, humiliated. But I've always bounced back, always learnt something, always moved forward to new joys and new achievements. So what's to regret?

It's only a kiss

No apologies for returning to a gay theme, since this is just as extraordinary as the Iris Robinson outburst. An ad for mayonnaise has been withdrawn because it shows two men kissing. Shock horror outrage!!

The food company Heinz made an ad in which a man is leaving the house with a sandwich, saying goodbye not to the usual devoted wife but to a second man in a chef's hat and apron.

The two men kiss and the "chef" says "Love you. Come straight home from work, sweet cheeks."

After this sinful scene brought over 200 complaints, in what some say was an organised campaign, Heinz pulled the ad saying it had "failed in its intent to amuse" and apologising if they had offended anyone.

I'm glad to know the gay rights group Stonewall has responded to this cowardly ban by urging the public to stop buying Heinz products.

The group said "We're shocked that an innocuous ad should have been withdrawn in this way." They have had a flood of phone calls from deeply upset supporters.

It's ridiculous that in 2008 a company should wilt in panic and give way to a few hysterical loudmouths who still think same-sex kissing is scandalous and outrageous.

I wouldn't mind betting that these homophobic hotheads stay completely silent about anything genuinely offensive like mass rape by soldiers or the escalating reign of terror in Zimbabwe.

PS: It struck me that the basic message here - gay kisses bad, mayonnaise good - is upside down. The sane equation surely is gay kisses (happiness-promoting) good, mayonnaise (up to 85% fat) bad.

Rape as weapon

Mass rape as a deliberate tactic of war is something not often spoken about. But it happens in many countries and wrecks the lives of many thousands of women - and girls.

Military commanders know systematic rape can be more intimidating and destructive than conventional weapons. It terrorises whole communities, wiping out resistance and support for combatants.

It also attracts less attention because there is no pile of bodies and the victims are often too ashamed to say anything about it.

Up till now world leaders have done disgracefully little about it, treating it simply as a side-effect of war, as petty crime, or as typical male behaviour they can't control.

But the United Nations Security Council has now voted unanimously to classify rape as a weapon of war. And it is setting up an inquiry into how widespread it is and how to tackle it.

Attempts are being made to get the US Senate to take the issue seriously too. It needs to be recognised universally as a war crime and dealt with accordingly.

Military mass rape is common in African countries but has also occurred in Eastern Europe and the Middle East. The rape capital of the world is said to be eastern Congo, where in some areas three quarters of women have been raped.

It can do far more damage than weapons, producing rejected children, widespread disease, and individual and communal trauma. And the assailants avoid the potential death and injury of traditional warfare.

The victims are not even combatants but innocent civilians who may want nothing to do with local conflicts. They are simply pawns in a battle for power.

Now that world leaders are recognising this routine brutality, there is hope it can be reduced and with it the appalling human toll.

Thanks to Nicole for flagging this up on her own blog.

Photo: Anti-rape protest in Liberia, West Africa. The message reads: "Do not give in to fear, sadness and danger. Do not give up. Report violence cases"

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I start a new job on Tuesday - at another charity which I'd better not identify. So posting and commenting may be a bit erratic until I've got the new routine sorted out. But I'll be visiting you all just as often as I can!

Living with danger

I'm always humbled by people whose partners have incredibly risky jobs or hobbies but somehow have the resilience to accept the risk without being permanently worried stiff about them.

If your loved one is a police officer, firefighter, racing driver or rock-climber, you can never be sure they're going to return home in one piece - or even alive.

You must be often wondering how you would cope if you had that awful knock on the door to bring you the worst possible news. Or do you eventually get quite philosophical about it and just think "If it happens, it happens"?

Some people must face the prospect of their new love being constantly in danger and decide they simply can't face it, they'll settle for someone whose only occupational risk is a scalding from the coffee machine.

Two Northern Ireland motorcycling champions, brothers Joey and Robert Dunlop, were both killed while racing, and their grieving relatives have had to accept that they died doing something they loved and just wouldn't have been so happy doing something else.

Some people argue that it's irresponsible to choose such dangerous activities when you have a family who love you and depend on you and will be devastated if you come to harm. But if that's what you enjoy, if you're good at it, if it enriches your life, should you back off solely to be risk-free? And end up a bored, frustrated pen-pusher?

If you're the one at home though, it must be quite a relief every time your partner rings to say "I'm on my way now, sweetheart. How have the kids been today?" And for a few blissful hours, you can relax and stop worrying.

Political maverick

As you know, I'm pretty cynical about politicians, so I'm amazed and impressed that a leading English politician is taking a stand of high principle on the erosion of civil liberties.

After the Labour government won (just!) agreement to a possible detention period of 42 days for suspected terrorists, Conservative MP David Davis said he would resign and fight a by-election* on the issue.

Because he believes so strongly that the 42 days provision is draconian, and because he thinks the government is steadily undermining civil liberties in one area after another, he is going to ask the voters to re-endorse him and his stand for basic freedoms.

Naturally the Labour Party have poured scorn on him. So have the Conservatives. But the general public are right behind him, by a big majority.

He has been scathing not only about the detention increase, but the huge number of CCTV cameras, the new ID card project, restrictions on public protests, attempts to reduce jury trials and mislaid confidential personal data.

He will no doubt raise all these issues at length during his by-election campaign.

When so many politicians toe the line and do what they're told to do, usually lying outrageously in the process, it's refreshing when one of them sticks his neck out to emphasise his deeply-held convictions.

I don't often support a Tory, but his tactic is inspired.

PS: An example of the misuse of terrorist laws. Three pensioners joining a demonstration at Heathrow Airport on May 31 were questioned and escorted from the airport by police for wearing T-shirts that read "Stop Airport Expansion". Police took their names, addresses and descriptions and followed them out, warning they would be arrested if they returned within 24 hours.

* When a seat becomes vacant through death or resignation, there is a by-election to elect a new MP.

Jenny has a very different opinion on David Davis. She believes his typically Tory views on other subjects make him unworthy of support.

I see no sickness

We all know men have shorter lifespans than women. But why? One reason is that men put off going to the doctor if they have an unusual physical symptom.

They often don't like to admit to weakness, or to needing help, so they ignore the symptom and hope it'll go away. A bit of blood? A strange lump? Probably nothing to worry about.

Frequently it's a woman who pesters the man to seek medical advice and tells him he should take his health seriously.

Dr Marianne Legato, author of "Why Men Die First", says men are told from an early age not to make a fuss but just "suck it up" and get on with life.

Her father died of cancer, partly because he ignored blood-tinged urine for two years before asking questions. Her son is now seriously ill, having delayed getting medical help.

Men are more prone to just about every major, life-threatening illness than women. So they should be more concerned about their health, not less.

My father had a stroke at 55, because he was unaware he had soaring blood pressure and had never thought of getting it checked. Many men still have no idea their blood pressure is way too high.

If I had a serious-looking symptom like blood in my pee or crippling headaches, I would be off to see Dr Julie like a shot. I certainly wouldn't assume it would magically go away and take no notice of it.

Why do men still think it's embarrassing to ask for help? Why do they risk not only dying but leaving grief-stricken partners and children? It's not just stubborn but irresponsible. Wise up, guys, and stop being a slave to masculine "toughness".

Gay cure

You'd think people would have got the message by now that homosexuality is not a disease to be cured but a sexual preference to be enjoyed.

But Northern Ireland Assembly member Iris Robinson* begs to differ. She thinks that with professional help gays can be "turned around" and steered away from "what they are engaged in".

She claims to know a number of people who have changed course and become heterosexuals.

Well, that would be news to many gays who know their preference is just what they are and isn't something that can be changed at will like a set of clothes.

If someone has "become" heterosexual the chances are that's what they were all along and they weren't gay in the first place.

But Mrs Robinson holds stubbornly to the idea that homosexuals have somehow drifted into a thoroughly unsatisfying activity and just need to be shown the error of their ways. With the help of the Good Lord of course.

Her attitude was discredited sometime in the 1950s when gays began to resist the conventional psychiatric dogma that homosexuality was a medical disorder and a mental illness.

Clearly the cultural change of heart has passed Iris by. She only listens to a higher, other-worldly source she regards as more reliable.

David McCartney from Northern Ireland's Rainbow Project says there is no evidence to support gays being "converted" and he was seeking a meeting with Mrs Robinson.

I somehow don't think he'll change her mind. Her opinions are not affected by such mundane considerations as everyday reality.

* Wife of Northern Ireland First Minister Peter Robinson. Represents Ian Paisley's Democratic Unionist Party.

Responses so far

Her remarks have been referred to the police as incitement to hatred by Andrew Muir, gay activist and member of the Alliance Party, and John O'Doherty of the South Belfast District Policing Partnership. The Police Service of Northern Ireland (PSNI) has confirmed it is launching an investigation.

On Tuesday evening Martin McGuinness, Deputy First Minister, said her remarks were "harmful and distressing" to gay people and she should reflect on the impact her comments were having on the gay community.

The Northern Ireland Assembly's Commissioner for Standards has been urged to investigate her comments.

Stephen Scott, who was recently attacked by three gay-bashers, has called her remarks disgusting and said she should resign.

Robert Toner, a gay Belfast man, is planning legal action against Mrs Robinson under the Public Order Act and has asked the Equality Commission to support him.

The online petition to the British Prime Minister protesting at her anti-gay remarks has now closed with 15,670 signatures (Aug 10).

See also: Jenny's take on the Mrs Robinson affair

Drink problem

Regular readers will know I'm baffled by people who habitually drink huge quantities of alcohol and habitually get appalling hangovers. Where's the attraction, I ask myself. Why is ten pints better than half a pint?

Keen drinkers on the other hand are equally baffled by me. Why is Nick such an abstemious tight-arse? Doesn't he know how to let his hair down and enjoy himself? Doesn't he want to lose his inhibitions and anxieties for a while?

I don't think the two factions will ever understand each other. Especially here in Ireland, where heavy drinking is regarded as absolutely normal and (13%) proof you're a paid-up member of the human race.

Alcohol comes to mind as I watch with interest England's latest attempts to curb the huge social, medical and financial costs of binge-drinking.

Boris Johnson, the new Mayor of London, has banned alcohol on the entire London Transport network. The British government has announced that young children found drunk by police will be ordered into rehab and teenagers frequently caught with alcohol will be given ASBOs (Anti-Social Behaviour Orders) imposing curfews and alcohol bans. Parents may be sent on parenting courses and may be prosecuted if their children are still misbehaving.

Well, these measures are a well-meaning response to an increasingly ugly problem, but they don't tackle the root cause of alcohol mayhem. Which is the increasing belief that a night out can't be properly enjoyed without a tsunami of alcohol, plenty of broken glass, pools of vomit and a mangled brain.

Somebody explain to me why a few like-minded people with sharp brains, a crazy sense of humour and some juicy gossip aren't more than enough for an entertaining evening, with or without fermented grapes.

Trust

Friendship and trust are so closely linked. If you find it hard to trust people, it's going to be hard to make friends.

You have to believe the other person's basically good-natured and caring, that they'll treat you decently and won't hurt you or betray you. If you've had a lot of bad experiences with people and that confidence has been undermined, making friends becomes harder.

My trust in people was badly damaged as a child. I had a belligerent, cantankerous father who constantly criticised me and seldom encouraged me. Later I was sent to a boarding school where I was regularly bullied and made to feel I didn't fit in and was somehow odd.

By my late teens I had lost much of my trust in people and I no longer assumed they would treat me well. They had to do a lot to convince me they were well-meaning and not going to belittle me or look down on me. The slightest sign of condescension and I would withdraw. Opening up and being myself no longer came naturally.

You might think such distrust would gradually disappear, that I would meet people who would restore my trust and I could start to make normal friendships like anyone else. But that never really happened and my distrust stubbornly lingered. Occasionally I meet people so transparently warm-hearted my suspicions melt for a while, but sooner or later they return.

The fact is I've never fully revealed myself to anyone except Jenny. Large parts of me are forever hidden, like the dark side of the moon. And it's too late now to expect any radical change.

Unfortunately there are plenty of parents and schools out there still damaging children's sense of trust without realising the long-term consequences - possibly an entire lifetime of struggling to make the sort of relationships that luckier people just take for granted. We need to take the emotional well-being of children a lot more seriously.

Unsung heroines (3)

When Salome Mbugua first arrived in southern Ireland in 1994 from Africa, she got a friendly welcome as black people were rare. But when she came back four years later people were more hostile.

There were a lot more immigrants and she was told "Go home, nigger." She met other black women who were meeting similar prejudice and having trouble finding suitable jobs.

With the support of Sisters of Mercy, a Catholic religious order, she set up AkiDwa, the African Women's Network, to provide support for black women and find out what their needs were.

Now the network, which expanded to help other women arriving from countries like Iraq, Afghanistan and Romania, has 2075 members and five permanent groups and is transforming the lives of previously marginalised newcomers.

They have had problems with racism, vandalism, domestic violence and even people saying they shouldn't have children. Around 60 per cent of them have had to take jobs that didn't match their skills. Overseas qualifications were often not recognised in the Republic.

AkiDwa advises them on how to improve their employment prospects and how to deal with discrimination, domestic violence and other problems that are holding them back.

Salome, a qualified social worker with a Master's degree from University College Dublin, originally wanted to work with the United Nations but now says she is too passionate about her work with AkiDwa to consider anything else. It has become her big mission and has been a much needed lifeline for thousands of vulnerable and victimised women.

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NB: I can't give a link to the recent Irish Times article as it's subscription-only. But here's another piece from the Irish Independent.

See also: Unsung heroines 1: Gareth Peirce

Unsung heroines 2: Camila Batmanghelidjh

Naked fury

How would you feel if your ex-lover had taken photos of you naked (or worse) and was holding onto the photos against your wishes? Or even circulating them to other people or putting them on the net?

This was the query on a newspaper problem page this week. An embarrassed woman wants her ex to return or delete the photos but he's refusing. Or rather, he's saying "Come and get them" and she's nervous about what will happen if she does.

It's not unusual these days for lovers to take intimate photos of each other - particularly when it's so easy with a digital camera. And such photos have often been sent into cyberspace, particularly if the ex feels bitter and wants some sort of malicious revenge.

Personally, I wouldn't be too bothered by my naked body gracing the net. As if anyone would want to see such an unpromising physique anyway. But I would be furious if it was accompanied by belittling and snide comments from someone out to stick the knife in.

Mind you, I wonder why people take nude pics of each other anyway. It's hardly necessary if you see your bedmate every day. What are you recording it all for?

You'r hardly going to stick them in the photo album to show your parents. "And this is Tracy in the buff. Look at those knockers, eh?" You're hardly going to line them up with the family snaps on your office desk. So what's the point? My mind wanders to frankly obscene and scurrilous motives....

And now I'm wondering what photos Jenny's been taking of me while I've been naked and fast asleep. I'd better take a closer look at that camera she's been so furtive about....

Distant memories

If there's one part of my body I'd like to improve, it's not my nose or biceps or bum, it's my dreadful memory - and the constant embarrassment it causes.

My father had a photographic memory, he could recall every detail of something that happened twenty years ago (quite mortifying when I desperately wanted him to forget some reckless or nasty action of mine). But I'm the exact opposite - if you asked me about a conversation I had last week, it would already be a hazy blur.

So I'm constantly forgetting people's names and jobs, whether they have children, where they live, that problem they asked me about a few days back, that difficult medical condition. I'm surprised I manage to retain all the thousand and one vital details of my own life, like bank accounts and holiday bookings.

It's not just early senility. I've always had a bad memory, even as a child. My mum would reel off all the little incidents from a seaside outing, and all that came to me was a vague image of sun, sea and sand.

So I rely heavily on bits of paper as memory back-up. Lists of Things To Do, notes of important conversations, downloaded news stories and reports, Notes To Self left in strategic places, and Questions To Ask when I talk to the doctor or podiatrist.

Which sounds pathetically gormless, but it's better than being totally flummoxed when Jenny asks me how much our hotel room's going to cost, if it has a bath or shower, and if it's air-conditioned. If I didn't have a Note, the details would have fluttered away like autumn leaves.

I really admire people with jobs that call for a prodigious memory - actors, singers, doctors, pilots. I'm always amazed that they can instantly recall exactly what they need so effortlessly.

I can just imagine the scene if I were a doctor. "That's a nasty-looking lump, Mrs O'Reilly. It could be a symptom of er, let me think for a few seconds. Would you like a cup of tea while we're waiting?" (That is, if I could remember how to boil the kettle)

I don't think Mrs O'Reilly would be long for this world.
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We all love bananas, don't we, boys and girls? Well, I read that we won't be enjoying them much longer, as they're being rapidly killed off by a lethal fungus - Panama Disease.

In five to thirty years' time, that delicious creamy taste could be a thing of the past. There are disease-resistant bananas that could be grown instead but they have a completely different taste - like lemons or apples. Perhaps we could readjust our taste buds?

Distressed nurses

The vast majority of NHS nurses say they sometimes or always leave work in distress because they can't give patients the dignity and quality of care they would like to give.

They say they are hampered not just by lack of time and staff shortages but by management failures that mean patients have to put up with embarrassing and dehumanising stays.

Patients are often denied single-sex wards, adequate washing and toilet facilities, help with eating and complete privacy when required.

In a Royal College of Nursing poll, 81% said there times when they left work feeling patients had been let down. Some 86% said dignity should be a higher priority.

Surely such issues as appropriate privacy and being able to wash properly are so basic they should be automatically guaranteed without nurses having to complain and make do and apologise to angry patients.

If we wouldn't accept these shortcomings in our own homes, why are they considered acceptable in hospitals, particularly when they just cause further stress to patients already suffering the stress of being hospitalised?

The feeble assurances by government ministers that patients' dignity is a top priority are not convincing when the everday reality is that this is clearly not the case and there is no sign of any radical improvements.

As in so many areas, the government is again fanatically penny-pinching with a vital public service that needs to be urgently upgraded.

There are shedloads of cash available for a new generation of nuclear missiles and a hugely ambitious ID card project, but the tottering NHS is apparently not so deserving. So nurses are left frustrated and despairing.

Was he a voyeur?

When is voyeurism not voyeurism? Is taking photos of man boobs as offensive as taking similar photos of female breasts? Or doesn't it count?

The English Court of Appeal had to grapple with this tricky issue last week after a care worker appealed against a court verdict that his secret photos of another man's chest made him a voyeur.

The law* says it's voyeurism if a person's breasts are involved, but it doesn't specify if it applies equally to men and women.

So Kevin Bassett, 44, was convicted after he snapped a male swimmer's torso at a swimming pool with a video camera hidden in a plastic bag.

He appealed on the grounds that male breasts don't count and the law applies only to women. The three Appeal Court judges agreed that only female breasts could be seen in a sexual light and therefore no offence had occurred.

Well, it seems to me there's something wrong here, as clearly there was an offence of some sort, in that the targetted swimmer's privacy was invaded and the other man was taking an undue physical interest in him.

If it's not forbidden under this particular law, there should be some other law that prevents it, or it's a green light for all men to be sexually spied on. On the other hand, maybe most men would just be amused by such absurd interest in their unexciting chests. I certainly would.

But the really sad part of the story is that the man boob-fancying Mr Bassett is a Christian who has hidden his homosexuality for many years as he just "wanted to be like everyone else".

After his conviction he received counselling and support from his friends and family. I only hope they persuaded him there's nothing wrong with homosexuality and he should embrace his true leanings and enjoy them.

PS: Perhaps men with sizeable boobs should do the decent thing and wear a bra??

* The 2003 Sexual Offences Act
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It's about time I awarded Hullaballoo the Rockin' Girl Blogger Award for a blog that's always witty, romantic, optimistic, full of life and often screamingly funny. One of my favourite must-visits!

Resisting Veronica

Well, Jenny's in London for a while, so to mitigate the appalling loneliness (especially now I'm jobless), my dear friend Veronica is hanging out with me and keeping me up to date with all the celeb gossip.

But she's such an awful tease. She will insist on showing me her new enlarged bosom and her pink lacy underwear, and I have to keep telling her it really isn't appropriate, I'm a happily married man and I have to resist temptation.

I'm forced to keep the bedroom permanently locked to prevent her draping herself provocatively on the four-poster bed and eyeing certain parts of my body suggestively. If this goes on, I might be compelled to end a beautiful friendship and show her the door.

The last time Jenny returned from one of her trips, she discovered several intimate items of Veronica's and dreadful scenes ensued. I was confined to the garden shed for a week and allowed only bread and water. She simply didn't believe I was going through one of my transvestite phases. The lipstick just isn't your colour, she said.

So now I really have to watch my step and resist Veronica's delectable body, or there'll be hell to pay. I'll find my bags have been packed and thrown into the front garden.

V and I are sticking to strictly respectable activities, mainly involving lines of white powder and extensive online gambling. Fortunately she's agreed to foot the bill to celebrate her lucrative modelling contract with New U Beauty Salons.

This shameless hedonism will as usual have to be followed up with a week's retreat at the Sacred Order of Divine Bliss to unscramble my delirious brain. Luckily the nuns know just what I need.

Photo: Veronica is suddenly camera-shy.

Hidden emotions

Sometimes I think I control my emotions too much. I'm seldom spontaneously happy or enthusiastic or angry or jealous or admiring. The emotions are there all right but I don't often show them.

Add to this the fact that my emotions tend to be slow-burning anyway, and may only bubble up some time after the event, and I know I sometimes seem to be emotionless. But that isn't so.

It always puzzles those people who voice their feelings loud and clear. They wonder why I'm so cool about something I ought to be really excited about - holiday plans, or moving house, or a sudden windfall or a great new job. Or they wonder why I’m not distraught and tearful over some personal catastrophe or someone’s death. Well, I am excited or distraught but I just don't pour it in all directions.

I suppose I'm a bit suspicious of people who splurge their emotions so easily and so openly. Are they genuine or are they only putting it on because that's what people expect? They're probably totally genuine and I'm just perversely cynical.

I must say at times I find emotionally uninhibited people rather hard to take - it's tiring being assailed by a constant flood of passion and spleen on every conceivable subject. Though maybe they're just being human and I'm a repressed tight-arse.

But I think expressing my emotions too impulsively and thoughtlessly can have unintended consequences, not always positive. I might easily say something that embarrasses other people (or myself). I might be unwittingly offensive or insensitive or shocking. It seems better to keep my emotions to myself unless there's a good reason for blurting them out. Or at least let them settle for a while.

Am I that unusual or are there plenty like me? Come on, tell me honestly. Am I sensibly cautious or am I just a cold fish?

Pretty ain't enough

So many men are naturally highly sexed, you'd think women wouldn't need to go to such lengths to make themselves look sexy. Yet men still demand a perfect female body to make love to. They want to have their cake and eat it.

It's not enough for the woman to be female, or pretty, or likeable, or just willing. If she doesn't conform to his mental image of sultry sexiness, she's somehow spoiling his pleasure.

So she has to spend her time primping and preening, depilating and dieting, slapping on cosmetics and enduring plastic surgery, so her man can feel suitably chuffed while he's getting his rocks off. This extreme male selfishness is euphemistically passed off as "looking after your man".

A woman I once knew said her ex-husband insisted on the full female regalia - padded bra, girdle, tight skirt, high heels and thick make-up - or he would dismiss her as plain and unfeminine. She always felt like a deranged drag queen. Needless to say, the marriage didn't last very long.

If women expected men to behave the same way, to doll themselves up like some theatrical dandy, men would simply laugh and take themselves off. But they reserve the right to impose laborious and arbitrary beauty regimes on women.

Unfortunately the media happily collude in this oppressive behaviour and give women relentless advice on how to turn themselves into male fantasies, complete with doctored photos of impossibly perfect women for them to aspire to.

The utter madness of this sexual straitjacket only becomes clear when some unlucky woman who's opted for plastic surgery once too often dies on the operating table and goes to an early grave - all in the name of giving her man an extra bedtime thrill.

PS: There have been several stories recently about women who sought permanent hair removal by laser, only to have their skin irreversibly disfigured by over-powerful lasers.

PPS: Virtually all the comments have disagreed with me - the pressure for women to be physically perfect comes not from men but from their own self-criticism, from other women and from advertising that plays on women's insecurities. How wrong can one be!

Feckless oldies

Several months ago I laid into a 26 year old called Sebastian Crankshaw who had written to the London Independent saying the older generation were responsible for a series of social reforms that had ruined the country.

They had done very nicely themselves from increased civil liberties, militant trade unions and tax breaks, but then they had brought in measures to roll back the welfare state and make life much harsher for the young 'uns.

Tuition fees were brought in. The value of pensions was slashed. State benefits were chopped. And employment rights were whittled away. So youngsters like him will never enjoy the same quality of life.

Well, it was quite a surprise when Sebastian himself stumbled on my blog a few days ago and introduced himself. And said he stood by his original argument.

He had been objecting to Janet Street-Porter* boasting that oldies like her were spending all their money, largely on luxuries, and leaving their children with no inheritance. Didn't that strike me as a selfish attitude, he asked.

Well, my answer is yes and no. No in that people should be entitled to spend their money as they wish (except for taxes of course). Yes in that any responsible parent whose children were hard-up would give them a financial boost.

But going back to the 'Oldies have wrecked our country' theme, I suppose he's right in that it's today's oldies who drove through all the regressive measures that are hampering those just starting out in the world.

It's also true though that many soon-to-be-oldies like myself objected strongly to all those measures at the time and did everything we could to stop them. But our voices were simply not influential enough.

And we're still objecting to similar backward steps being taken by the so-called Labour government, particularly its doubling of the 10p tax rate, which penalises over 5 million low-earners.

My heart bleeds for young people struggling to make a decent life for themselves in the current punitive political climate. I really wish they had an easier time of it.

* Prominent journalist and ex-editor of the Independent on Sunday

Luck of the draw

Why is it some people have endless bad luck, hit by one disaster after another, while others are blessed by constant good fortune? Is it purely the whim of fate or is it their own attitude to life?

People who've done well for themselves are fond of saying it's due entirely to their own effort and single-mindedness, that anyone who wants to succeed can do so if their really want to. They're where they are because they deserve it.

But it simply isn't true. There are millions of people languishing in dead-end jobs and crime-ridden estates who're just as hard-working and intelligent but are perpetually held back by forces beyond their control.

We're more at the mercy of luck than we like to think. So much depends on our personality and our circumstances, what we were landed with when we came into this world and what happened to us as we grew up and came to grips with the adult world and its challenges.

If you have parents who're alcoholics or criminals or are mentally disturbed, who have no idea how to bring up children and treat you as a nuisance and a liability, what chance do you have of a fruitful life unless you're uncannily resilient and self-motivated? Not very much.

But if you have sober, responsible parents who love you and cherish you, who help you to develop your abilities and talents, who give you self-confidence and determination, your life is immeasurably different and you have a real prospect of achieving your hopes and dreams.

Even when we're grown up, so much hinges on random events we can't control. What our bosses are like, what area we live in, who we happen to meet, how healthy we are. Or whether we're struck by natural disasters like earthquakes or tsunamis. Our destiny can change overnight from prosperous to broke, from despair to joy.

But it's still often said that those who are poor deserve to be poor, that the wealthy and successful have pulled themselves up by their own bootstraps. It's a wicked lie that keeps countless people trapped in wretched and unfulfilling lives.