Topless photos were wallpaper to the rancid sexism of Savile era
A big-breasted woman may make men stupid, not her, but Page 3 has no place in the 21st Century
I took the Daughter bra shopping on Saturday. She turns 19 next week and she asked me if I would buy her a proper, lovely, expensive bra that fits. The assistant who measured the Daughter had that frightening matter-of-factness that Eastern European women seem to specialise in: "She is very narrow across back, very beeg at front. Is problem," said the assistant, gesturing at the Daughter in her thong.
As scary Ludmilla trudged back and forth to the changing room bringing ever larger cup sizes - D, DD, E, EE - I wondered how long it would be before someone would say it to my darling, curvy girl that never-to-be-forgotten taunt shouted at me across a crowded school gym back in 1976. "Page 3" the boys yelled cheerily, weighing imaginary melons in their hands. "Get 'em out!"
Lord, I was mortified. The blush, which began on my face, travelled right through me till I was aflame. I was playing badminton in a school match; the last thing I wanted was to be singled out for the bags of adipose tissue that had recently sprouted where my flat chest used to be. It was excruciating. And yet, and yet, if I'm absolutely honest, another feeling mingled with the shame, a new sensation that was really rather delightful. Dear reader, it was power.