Ok, maybe that was a tad harsh, but according to this article by Tad Safran in the TimesOnline, from about the age of 30 or so, British women let themselves go.

I’m not saying that I’m the greatest prize out there, but at least I’d put on a clean shirt, shaved and brushed my teeth. Sophie tumbled into the house looking like a refugee from Hurricane Katrina. She smelt like the R&D lab at Philip Morris. Her outfit was about as sexy as a half-pound of ground meat. And, surely, the only time she’d seen the inside of a gym was to ask directions to the nearest pub.

Don’t go throwing stuff across the pond at me–I didn’t say it. Now I do watch Gillian McKeith’s You Are What You Eat and the only thing I can say is I’m amazed at how many Brits have caught up to us Yanks–weight wise that is.

I was feeling pretty good for a minute, but then he let American women have it–

American women also take themselves too seriously and are annoyingly confronta-tional. The good news for men, by the way, is they are convinced that the best way to prove they are equal to a man is by sleeping with him. Um . . . Go ahead, that’ll teach me.

Ok, so if British women are hags, American women are slags, would that make him Mr Safran a misogynist?