SO the little girl who won our hearts at the opening ceremony of the Beijing Olympics with her 'Ode to the Motherland' was a fraud. The truth is that she can't sing at all, or at least not like that.
The voice belonged instead to an angel, who in the eyes of the perfection police of the Politburo didn't quite fit the angelic specifications because of a beguiling gap in her teeth and the absence of pigtails. Shock! Horror! The West is appalled. But if we were really honest, we'd admit that it wasn't the sweet singing that captured
our hearts so much as the cute pig tails and the red dress - the pig tails were real, weren't they? I mean our own adorable little Irish dancers with the bouncing ringlets all wear wigs nowadays, don't they?

But when it comes down to it, is there really that much difference
between us and the Politburo since they stopped breaking the feet of infant girls to ensure that they'd never develop a size six
foot?We've all played the image game at some time, valuing human beings,
from bonny babies to potential Miss Irelands, by their looks, or more specifically, by our own prejudiced conceptions of beauty. Beauty of course is in the eye of the beholder, and while I don't want to appear racist, I wouldn't agree either with the men of the South Sea Islands who prefer their women heavy and pendulous, with bones through their noses. After seeing photographs of the two little seven-year-olds involved in the controversial Beijing performance, I have to say that the real songstress with her shy, wide-eyed innocence and intelligent
eyes was far more captivating. What were the Politburo looking at at all? An American child beauty contest most likely. But the reaction to the whole affair has been incredibly hypocritical. It's as if talent and ability were all that ever really mattered to us, as if our culture would never tolerate preferential treatment of either a child or an adult on the grounds of good looks. Sadly that is not the reality.
The whole western world is now more obsessed with looks than the orient ever was. Everything is a cosmetic exercise, even job interviews. Job seekers described as "homely looking" in one recent British survey were found less likely to secure employment than their more "attractive" rivals. We have discrimination laws on everything else from the gender to race, to age. Isn't it time we added appearance to the list? I really don't know how we can criticise the Chinese for treating a child so shamefully. After all, the show was geared to our expectations. They simply took a leaf out of our book

Recession trendy - a line of products for the newly broke

I KNEW it! The minute the recession starts to bite, the fashion world
comes up with the hardship clause and down with the hemline. Suddenly, poverty is 'cool', labels are passé and bargains are de rigeur.
There's even a name for the women who are dumping their designer wear
and flaunting hairshirts instead - Recessionistas.
It's the economy, stupid, but why do I have to pretend it's all new to me? I've been receding all my life. This week, for instance, a PR agency advised all Recessionistas to check out the new bargain Colet Earth hair care, a range of high quality natural shampoos and conditioners suitable for the recession, infused with organic Irish herb extracts and "priced at a highly accessible, €4.99".
Even in the good times, I never paid that much for a shampoo, but then ten per cent of the profits are going to the Irish Cancer Society.
The hair care experts at Colet Earth, apparently, scoured herb gardens across Ireland to find the best quality organic herbs and now work with some of country's leading herb gardens including Lissadell House, the childhood home of Constance Markievicz. I don't know what the Countess would have thought of it because she was far from a Recessionista
herself. The products, I'm told, contain a rich variety of Irish organic herbal infusions, including lavender, sap moss, hawthorn berries, mint, dandelion and nettle root. Seeing the times that in
it, I'm off to dig out a few nettles and dandelions myself.