Okay so now I’ve built the IDEAL WOMAN

Including THIS unknown


About a month ago I dedicated a whole article on this site to the IDEAL MAN – a superhuman I’d assembled after a great deal of head-scratching and list making and muttering to myself. I’d wondered what attributes were important in the modern gent, I decided on a small handful like LOOKS and CONVERSATIONAL ABILITY, then old fashioned staples like STRENGTH and whether or not he should be good at football. I’d opened my soul and revealed the men I admire. I’d excavated what I thought to be fresh and fertile ground, so it was with a self-congratulatory whoop that I plonked myself down, and I sat back awaiting the tidal wave of interest. BUT NOTHING. As it happened, there was no flood of intrigue, and now it languishes on the site like an elephant that’s wandered into a cattle field by mistake. It might be a slow burner, it probably isn’t, but anyway I’ve decided to do a 180, to flip reverse it, to turn it over like a old mattress, and now I’m set to assemble the IDEAL WOMAN. Perhaps this will float more people’s boats. Especially people hoping to see some nice tits…



Barbarella – for centuries the world has been awash with beautiful women who orbit the twin superficial planets of Great Face and Nice Body but few have been more beautiful facially and also with their body than Jane Fonda in the 1960s psychedelic intergalactic science fiction movie, Barbarella. Beauty is of course a very subjective thing, and some people argue that it doesn’t matter what you look like on the outside because it’s what you have on the inside that counts. Unfortunately what Barbarella has on the inside is a collection of blood and guts and bits of offal.


Kirsty Young ACTUAL

Kirsty Young – the art of talking to someone else isn’t as simple as knowing what questions to ask and what answers to give, it’s about other stuff like making the other person feel at ease, not shouting at them unnecessarily nor suddenly lunging in for a snog because you’ve run out of things to say and you panicked. It’s about knowing the precise moment when you can elevate small talk to medium talk and then eventually to big talk. It helps if you can do all of this in a soft Scottish accent that’s as calming as floatation tank music.


Tina Fey

Tina Fey – it’s been a bumper harvest for hilarious women over the last few years, and it’s about time because all of this horseshit about women not being funny is preposterous. Some of my best friends are funny women, and if I was a woman I’d probably be a bit gay for them. Anyway a modern woman knows the power of a GSOH (shorthand for LOLZ) and few have a SOH as G as Tina Fey, who is funnier than a goat that’s just walked into an NCT class and taken a seat and silently looked around the room as if it’s the most normal thing in the world for it to do. CRAZY GOAT!



Marilyn Monroe – the French have a phrase that goes “je ne sais quoi”, and it refers to a certain Marilyn Monroeness that most women should aspire to have about them. Part girly, part sultry, part aggressively womanly, part knowing, part completely stupid, part manipulative and cruel, part tender like a slab of fine meat, part spiky like an old Christmas tree, it’s a powerful and heady combination that’s impossible to define. Although I have just sort of defined it.



Kathleen Turner – of course your speaking voice isn’t THAT important, as something like 94 per cent of all communication is done without talking, instead it’s done using subtler methods like sign language or licking up and down the sides of a banana or taking your glasses off and letting your hair down in slow motion. But it still helps to have a good smoky voice, like the ones belonging to Mariella Frostrup, Scarlett Johansson, or Cathy Beale from Eastenders, or Rod Stewart, or ideally Kathleen Turner around about the time of Body Heat and Romancing the Stone. Or Darth Vader.



Joan of Arc – whenever people (male or female) complain about feeling unmotivated, I fly into an inner rant about Joan of Arc. Was she unmotivated when she had a mountain to climb? When the chips were down and the odds were stacked against her? No, she did what all strong independent women should do and got herself an androgynous hipster haircut and proceeded to fuck shit up big time. Now she’s a saint.



Oprah Winfrey – every so often you’ll probably walk down an office and notice that a girl is crying at her desk, or you might hear faint sobbing coming from a toilet cubicle or from underneath a water cooler, and, understandably, most people freeze in these situations and don’t know what to do. Do you hug them and risk your sympathy morphing into unexpected lesbian sex? Do you start crying too to make them feel less self-conscious? Actually the correct answer is neither of those things. In an ideal world, you’d take their little weeping face in your hands and you’d tell them to “embrace their inner truth” and to “grow through their wounds”. You’d be Oprah Winfrey.


1980s Madonna – when she first burst onto the scene wearing fishnet tights on her arms and somehow managing to chew gum all the way through her songs, Madonna was Middle England’s worst nightmare. Now their worst nightmare is people coming over here with their new cuisines, and their hopes for a better life and their fucking intentions of creating a utopian society for us all to live in. Bastards. I’m going off topic here. Basically Madonna was ballsy, wicked, inspiring and impressive. Less so now. But still slightly all of those things.


Monica Galetti – now look, I’m fully aware that we’ve correctly moved on from whores in bedrooms and cooks in kitchens, the sisterhood is strong and capable and feminism is on the up. But like men still universally yearn to be good at football, so women still gravitate to the kitchen. Imagine being able to whip something up Galetti style. Go on, imagine it. Now stop imagining it. Now imagine it again. Sorry, look at me, trying to CONTROL you. What a prick.



Elaine Benes – this is just my little extra bit, an honourable mention, because I love Elaine from Seinfeld. A strong, sassy, independent woman, she was basically Beyonce before Beyonce was even Beyonce. And even now, Beyonce’s not really Beyonce anyway is she? I’m not sure where this is going….

Oh sorry, and of course the IDEAL WOMAN would have excellent breasts and a nice vagina. Right, any more for any more?


One Response to Okay so now I’ve built the IDEAL WOMAN

  1. Al says:

    Are we talking about the now Kathleen Turner or the then. Her voice now is more husky than a lot of men I know. P.s. where were the tits as promised in the first paragraph?

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