Dearest Hen

The best family in the world (after my own of course) is the Mitfords. Having read everything I can get my hands on so far about these incredible women, I am so looking forward to 'Wait for Me!' the autobiography of Deborah, Duchess of Devonshire - the youngest of the clan.

Hearing her on Woman's Hour this week made me sigh with happiness - particularly her love of Elvis (she has Jailhouse Rock as her ringtone!). So many of our aristocrats have done nothing to recommend them except live high on the land - and other people's hard work - but the Mitfords (fascist tendencies not withstanding) have given us so much to enjoy. From Decca's investigative journalism in America in the 1960s, to Debo's radical farm shop at Chatsworth there is something inspirational about these sisters.

I imagine it's because Debo is still alive (thankfully) that no film has yet been made of their lives. When the time comes, it has the potential to be truly magical... but PLEASE don't let them cast Keira Knightly or let her anywhere near it - Hollywood, I am talking to you!

Losing the battle

If you've ever been appalled by a female friend telling you she's been to a strip-bar, then told you to 'lighten up, it's only fun' when you show your displeasure, this book will validate your unease.

In Female Chauvinist Pigs, Levy investigates why - after decades of women fighting against being classified as pieces of meat - some young women today are perfectly happy to be represented as such. These young girls enter wet t-shirt competitions (which should rightfully have died with Jim Davidson's career), take pole dancing lessons, go to topless bars on a works night out, and buy Playboy pencil cases for their pre-teen daughters. They say they're doing it because the battle for equality with men has been won - and they are free to represent their sexuality in any way they choose. The fact that they choose to do it in the same way Page 3 and Hugh Hefner have been doing for years seems lost on them. In this book Ariel Levy interviews young women from various different backgrounds to find out why they are happy to be valued for their breasts rather than their brains.

Reading the book, I felt so angry that women have allowed themselves (ourselves) to be manipulated into believing that public nudity is empowering and that anyone who refuses to laugh along is some kind of prude with no sense of humour. The women who fought so hard for equality must be wondering what went wrong. I am.