We live in an age of mediocrity, she said and how right she was

They were naive times, young boys floundering in a sea of innocence, misinformation and pretended knowledge, and while I found Marilyn Monroe’s body interesting and her face fascinating, I had no idea what that meant. A few others in the class named the emergent star, but I left my peers nonplussed when I named my second choice: Donna Reed, the supportive, loving wife of James Stewart in what was and remains my favourite all-time film, It’s a Wonderful Life .I wanted one like her “when I growed up”.

No one it seemed, had heard of Donna Reed, but when pressed for my third choice, I was reluctant to divulge the name. I knew full well in the early to mid-1950s, big busts and deep cleavages ruled the roost and my third choice was distinctly short in the mammary department and fear of ridicule silenced me.

Today, our national news pages are full of so-called stars, who have ditched their “love rat” boyfriends, or are parading on the beaches, showing off exactly ”what their ex is missing” as the headline writers offer suggestively. Female singers are judged even more by their sex appeal and how revealing are their outfits.

Then there is the preposterously posterior-ed Kim Kardashian and her coterie of sisters, whose claim to fame lies somewhere beyond the mists of common sense but we are informed they are “celebs”, because you can hardly call them stars.

Or there is Katie Price, once rated among the 25 sexiest women, presumably after trawling those devoid of taste or visually challenged, and she has recently published a “selfie” of herself in the last week of pregnancy. A couple of years back, columnists were revealing that so many schoolgirls regarded this hapless blot on the landscape, as a role model.

They are botoxed, air-brushed, styled and remodelled; their tummies tucked, their backsides resculptured, their lips swollen, their faces lifted and no end of other work goes into creating the illusion that is as false and as artificial as to be rendered all but pointless: fake people in an increasingly fake world.. However, discernment is not high on the register of teenage schoolgirls or lusting males.

The other evening, during general conversation about such enhancement trends, one of our daughters mentioned “a merkin”. My wife and I and at least one other daughter, looked at her clearly baffled. The eldest grand-daughter promptly looked it up on an I-phone, (as I wish I could have done back in 1956), and showed us the images.

Apparently, on top of everything else, you can now obtain fake pubic hair in various designs. The fact they had it in the first place before shaving it off, does not appear to register. You can shave your pubes and lash out on fake, designer-pubes. Or, if blessed with a thick natural thatch, indulge in topiary.

I seem to remember Marilyn Monroe and Brigitte Barrdot both dyed their hair blonde. And it is possible either one or both underwent some dental work and, of course, there was make-up and lighting, but essentially what you saw was what was there in the first place. Perhaps that is why they are still icons, who have prompted so many to leave no stone unturned in an effort to achieve similar status, albeit artificially. And very temporarily too for Andy Warhol was in error when forecasting everyone would have 15 minutes of fame. Such are the numbers and demands, they are down to five minutes: just a brief liposuction-inspired sashay across the spotlight.

Me? Well I will not be holding my breath for a merkin catalogue to drop through my post-box.

My mind went back to that third film star, a feisty, sassy personality, I was too embarrassed to mention in my schooldays because I knew my choice would be ridiculed because of her “deformity”: a flat chest. I watched her over the years as I grew up and still rated her as among one of the ideal people I would most like to meet. I believe she once said that you could imagine some archaeologist in a century or so, prising open Hollywood graves and trying to make sense of female skeletons with two piles of silicone on their rib-cages.

“I think your whole life shows in your face and you should be proud of it,” she once said and you could see she had grown old without trying to stop the advance of time on her features. In many ways, her quotes sum up my point. She was the living antidote to modern cosmetic obsession.

She looked about her and observed “We live in an age of mediocrity” and shuddered at some of the behaviour of so-called celebrities. “It's inappropriate and vulgar and absolutely unacceptable to use your private life to sell anything commercially.” She did not add the name Katie Price but the quote would serve for so many.

She was divorced once and commented sardonically:” In Hollywood, an equitable divorce settlement means each party getting fifty percent of publicity.”

She was so scared when starting out in films, she kept her head down to hold her head steady, and so stumbled upon “The Look” which was as sultry as it was individual.

Lauren Bacall died this week. As far as I could ascertain after watching her on big and small screens over the years, she remained short in the mammary department. She just looked superb and had more class than all today’s posturing celebs’ put together, “Stardom,” she once said: “isn’t a profession: it is an accident.”

The woman had style but also an ability for abundantly accurate observations.

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