The freedom that women were supposed to have found in the Sixties largely boiled down to easy contraception and abortion; things to make life easier for men, in fact.

Rachel Cusk's books are like pop-up volumes for grown-ups, the prose springing out of the page to bop you neatly between the eyes with its insights.

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

What sort of sap doesn't know by now that picture-perfect beauty is all done with smoke and mirrors anyway?

Being a monarchist - saying that one small group is born more worthy of respect than another - is just as warped and strange as being a racist.

A good part - and definitely the most fun part - of being a feminist is about frightening men.

As I get older I think, contrary to modern assumption but in line with the old Lerner and Lowe song, that it would actually benefit both them and society if - to quote Professor Higgins - a woman could be more like a man.