MELLIPOP GETS DESPERATE

Ok, so I need to rip the udder off the sacred TV cow and sociological phenomenon that is Desperate Housewives. Am I the only person in the world who thinks this show is a rancid pile of steaming cow shit?

So I was reading an article on the SMH website that was rhapsodising about how “liberating” Desperate Housewives is for women over 40.

Sure. Liberating. The only thing remotely liberating about the program is that Teri Hatcher - the show’s main star - looks like she has recently been “liberated” from Auschwitz. Has this women not eaten anything since “Lois and Clark” was axed ten years ago?

Has anyone taken a good look at these women? Have we all forgotten that sacred phrase – “mutton dressed as lamb”? Did we not used to think that women of this ilk were both infinitely embarrassing and worthy only of our most unrelenting scorn?

Apparently, there is a new term for this emerging breed of over 40’s woman – the DISCO woman. According to some new gee-whiz marketing paradigm they’re “Discerning, Increasing years, Stylish and Comfortably Off”. Though a more honest assessment may otherwise suggest that that our over-40 DISCO chicks are “Desperate to look 25 again, Impossibly Skeletal, Cosmetically-enhanced and Over-dosed on Botox”.

Is this is what we are to aspire to, ladies? Conquering old age by indulging in a dangerous Dorian Gray fantasy in which childbirth, metabolism and life in general never impact on our face or figure. You too can look like Desperate Housewife DISCO dollies - all it takes is excessive dieting, over-exercising, cosmetic surgery, air brushing and good lighting. Simple!

And, of all people, the article name-drops Liz Hurley as some new feminist freedom fighter for the over 40’s. This is a woman most famous for wearing an ingeniously designed dress made of nought but a couple of safety pins and a clean white hanky.

A women who is better known for a) her boobs and b) the men she has been involved with, than for any actual talent. Dating first Hugh Grant (who shagged some black hooker for a decent handful of booty), and then some nameless rich cad who impregnated her, dumped her and then moved on to Nicole Kidman (no doubt reassured he won’t be making THAT little “mistake” again).

A woman who’s crowning achievement was to drop 20 kilos a couple of weeks after giving birth - by literally starving herself - and then parroting on to the press about it like she had just cured cancer or brokered peace in the Middle East. When all she had done was to reclaim her middle-aged midriff for future Austin Powers sequels.

A woman who is currently designing her own swimwear range, the latest in that proud lineage of has-been ex-models before her. Though no doubt she will also eventually break innovative new ground in the woefully untapped celebrity lingerie market.

So essentially, the new feminist icon is a post-menstrual skeleton with her own swimwear range. Or hammy sitcom star with a starvation fetish and "frequent buyer" card at her local cosmetic surgeon. Either way ladies, if you can’t see your ribcage in the mirror and can still form a facial expression or two when you hit 40, you just haven’t made it darling.

Ok, so I have actually seen an episode or two of Desperate Housewives. It really is utter shite.