IT’S all got very ugly.
Just a week ago, journalist Samantha (plain as a) Brick was a nobody - outside of her own delusional little world in France with a love-struck husband.
Then she wrote a long article in the Daily Mail about the effect her ‘great beauty’ has always had on men, and the price she has had to pay for it.
The effect? Men fall for her at first sight and rush up to her in the street proffering flowers and champagne and offer to pay everything from her bar bills to her taxi fares, she claims.
The cost? The jealousy and hatred of other women.
I think she’s wrong on both scores.
Firstly, other women do appreciate true beauty. We have long adored the Marilyn Monroes and Sophia Lorens of this world.
We now think beauty pageants are shallow and outdated, but they stand as a prime example of the huge value society has long placed on looks alone. And rarely did anyone ever bitch that a newly-crowned Miss World didn’t look up to much.
Secondly, I think Samantha has been watching too many Impulse adverts. The vast majority of men are either too shy or too insecure to approach a woman they perceive (very important word, that) as beautiful. Her good looks usually stoke their insecurities. Plainer, approachable girls get chatted up at parties. Beauties go home alone.
Samantha has now been put in the public stocks and pelted with rotten tomatoes by the female population of the UK - and I reckon she will say we’ve reacted to type.
Though she would be wrong again. What women hate is one of the sisterhood thinking they are so much better than the rest of us.
It’s not just in the looks department. We hate a woman who thinks she’s cleverer or of a higher class, or better at her job, or more famous or important than the rest of us when she isn’t.
I’ve known a few women who thought that way in my time. I tried to excuse their egotism by viewing self-belief as a good thing.
Only it’s not if it grows off the back of someone she’s relegated to the shelf below her, then dismissed as jealous.