Charlene: Europe's saving grace
Just when we thought we'd fallen out with Europe they sent us her. Clearly sensing that our stereotype of a European is a now fat-cat bondholder, they sent an angel to walk among us.
She's not even technically European but, in fairness, it wasn't her passport we were checking out. It would be fair to say there are few men in the country who didn't practically go blind from looking at pictures of her all last week. Dads all over the country suddenly developed a long-hidden interest in fashion, and particularly in asymmetrical, off the shoulder, long clingy numbers that show off magnificent South African swimmers' shoulders.
Many of us were barely aware of Charlene Wittstock before last week. But then she came and she brought the sun. The fact that she was with Prince Albert of Monaco helped matters. It gave her that air of attainability. She clearly likes balding, bespectacled, middle aged, Irish-looking guys, which made half the men in the country think they could be in with a shout. The fact that he pretty much owns a country probably helps. But, sure anyway, don't we all own banks and hotels in London and whatnot?