When Actresses Jump On The

'stress' Was The Catch-all Every Pamper-pedlar I Spoke To Used To Explain Why Healthy Women Feel The Need To Be Regularly Patted, Petted And Preened Into A State Of Babyish Beatification.

Is The Raggle-taggle Brangelina Tribe Any More Bogus Than That Of The Landlocked Yummy Mummy Who Believes That She Can Drop Half A Dozen Brats And Still Keep A Modest Carbon Footprint? I Don't Think So.

The Money I Pay For My Cultural Experiences Came Willingly From My Own Pocket - They Were Not The Result Of Bread Being Removed From The Mouths Of The Poor So That Miss Thing Here Could Mince Off To The Circus Smelling Of Roses.

Knowing That The 'sex And The City' Chicks Now Rack Up Almost Two Centuries Between Them, Why Do Some Of Us Fuss And Hiss About A Bit Of Retouching On Their Forthcoming Film Poster?

In My Third Husband I Had Discovered A Blissfully Laid-back Type Who Thought It Nothing Less Than Hilarious When I Misread The Map On The Way To Wales, So It Took Us An Extra Three Hours, Or When I Was Sick In A Plastic Carrier Bag During Much Of The Drive Back From Devon - A Bag That Turned Out To Have A Hole In It.