Proof once more, as if we need it, that we live in a culture where wealth and fame are prized way beyond anything else – certainly old-fashioned ideals like dignity and self-respect.

Little girls no longer dream of being doctors or world-class show jumpers, they want to be glamour models, popstars, a Big Brother housemate, see their face in Heat magazine and have a million pound wedding paid for by OK!

They dream of being a Wag – a label meaning you are defined by the man in your life.

Yes, despite decades of campaigning for equal rights, plenty of women still just want to marry into money – and the more famous the bloke, the better.

The term Wags (meaning wives and girlfriends of footballlers, in case anyone's been living in outer space for the past two years) was coined to describe Coleen and co as they ran up outrageous bar bills and strutted the streets in endless (generally tacky) designer outfits at the 2006 World Cup.

Never mind the footie, all the women were interested in was watching the bitchfest unfold in the first ever Wag-off.

Each tried desperately to out-Wag the rest by being the most fake tanned, the skinniest or wearing the most exclusive, limited-edition dress.

Unfortunately millions of impressionable young girls failed to see the idiocy of it all and were dazzled by what looked to them like heaven on earth – tons of cash and no need to work.

Ever since, wannabe-Wags have dreamed of landing a Premiership footballer and the millionaire lifestyle they bring.

Shopping

They can devote their lives to splashing his cash on endless shopping sprees, or if they fancy "earning their own money" they can launch fashion ranges, perfumes (eau de Wag) and fitness DVDs, even write newspaper columns – all on the back of their chap's fame.

But there's the rub, the only way to win this seemingly glamorous lifestyle is to date or marry a Premiership footballer.

In which case I'd have to pass.

They might earn £100,000 a week but I can't see many winning a Husband of the Year prize.

The stereotype of players being arrogant, overpaid yobs is proved right all too often.

Obviously there are exceptions but they seem few and far between.

And while women always think their man is different, Ashley Cole seems to have proved otherwise.

Despite being the envy of the land by wedding stunning singer Cheryl Tweedy, he is alleged to have cheated on her.

Chez rejected the Wag label because, like Posh before her, she had already made her own millions and was successful in her own right before they tied the knot.

Hardworking Wags are keen to differentiate between themselves and those whose sole ambition in life is to bag a footballer and spend his cash.

Yet despite all Cheryl's feisty protestations of girl power, she has stuck by her man, losing her self-respect and public respect.

And as for Coleen, yeah she has made "her own" millions now but only because she's with the far from gorgeous Wayne Rooney.

Anyone dreaming of being a Wag should be careful what they wish for.

Life with most footballers looks like an own goal to me.



My wondrous week


THIS is definitely one of the most exciting weeks of the year so far.

Not only will we finally be reunited with our fave New York foursome tomorrow with the release of the Sex and the City movie, we will also be welcoming enchilada-eating fashion PA Ugly Betty back into our lives on Friday. Mere words cannot express my joy; I think I'll have to resort to squealing!

And as if that wasn't enough for one week, squeezed in between those two hottest of dates are three glitzy Leeds events – all on one night.

The last time I attempted that I only made it to two and still ended up with a sore head.

This time around there'll be cocktails at the launch of @larocca, the new restaurant at Clarence Dock, which sounds suitably glamorous.

Then it's off to Pizza Express in Park Square to celebrate its 10th anniversary, with yummy food, live music and a magician.

Finally, if I've any party power left I might just make it to the opening of Blackhouse on East Parade, where Italian eatery Est Est Est is being reincarnated as a seafood and steak restaurant.

It's probably a wise move in a city flooded with pizza places, although as a veggie it won't be top of my list of must-dine venues.

After that lot on Thursday night I won't just be watching Ugly Betty on Friday, I'll be working her look even more so than usual.


Cats that got the corn

I know I'm not alone in my passion for eating sweetcorn straight from the tin.

But these days I never get a full container to myself –I have to share it with the kittens.

The instant I get the lid off they're squeaking, purring and scrambling up on to the kitchen worktop.

I could understand if it was tuna, but sweetcorn?

However, after quick careful online research it seems cats with a penchant for corn are more common than you might imagine.

And whereas mine share a few kernels from a dish, others prefer to scoff it straight from the cob.

How sweet!