As with most liberal sexual ideas, what makes the world a better place for men invariably makes it a duller and more dangerous place for women.

Blakes Hotel in South Kensington was a particular favourite of mine during what I affectionately think of as my Restless Years.

Sadly, a lot of what passes for feminism these days is just moaning about men, congratulating ourselves on nothing in particular, and mocking them for being big kids while doing everything we can to keep them that way.

When did women whose looks are not their living start conducting themselves like the simpering inmates of an Ottoman empire seraglio?

It has been said that a pretty face is a passport. But it's not, it's a visa, and it runs out fast.

Only those who haven't got the wit to speak for themselves would ever want their clothes to do it for them.

Whenever I am sent a new book on the lively arts, the first thing I do is look for myself in the index.