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When Madonna did a recent photoshoot for Louis Vuitton, the unretouched images were mischievously leaked to the press. An unflinching close-up of her face, before the airbrush artist had got to work, evokes a complex mix of feelings. Melancholy: even she who has applied her boundless wealth and energy to holding back time has sagging cheeks, an incipient wattle neck. Pity: how cruel to compare this with the “after” image, the tight, sculpted iconic face. Read the full article.

I was 26 when my father died seven years ago. Although devastated, within a year I grew used to the idea — or so I thought. At first it felt odd saying “my mum” instead of “my parents” or not having to think of Christmas presents for a man. But I quickly adapted: I was part of a family of three, not four. I don’t remember grieving. It was a case of “we (my sister and I) have to look after mum”. Guilt over not doing that properly was far more dominant than sadness. Read the full article.

Can the Big Society protect our children?

Ah, the Big Society; we are all one happy family now, helping the elderly to cross the road, reading The Gruffalo at the local school, planting oaks in parks. It’s the coalition dream, a nation of volunteers who scrape the chewing gum from pavements, build extensions for their elderly parents and help out at soup kitchens in their spare time. Read the full article.

The secret lives of boys and girls

My daughter turned 5 recently and for her birthday we gave her a bright pink Hello Kitty scooter. She invited only girls to her party, and they ate pink and white ice-cream cake off Princess plates and drank pink lemonade from Princess cups. They made flower necklaces and played Pin the Crown on the Princess. I’m a bit embarrassed to admit all of this – especially now that I’ve read Lise Eliot’s book Pink Brain, Blue Brain: How Small Differences Grow into Troublesome Gaps – and What We Can Do About It. In it she talks about the way most parents, almost without thinking, segregate their children by gender, inundating the girls with Barbies and ballet, the boys with diggers and football. It constitutes, she says, “a round-the-clock indoctrination into the world of brave, cheeky boys and cute, squeaky girls, well before they even start primary school”. Not only is it unnecessary, says Eliot, it is not in our children’s best interests. Read the full article.

Wedded bliss? It really is a game of two halves

I made such a mistake 50 years ago today. It was my wedding day — not that that was a mistake, certainly not, but these past few months I have been cursing the fact that I chose June 11, l960, to get married. Why did I not think of checking my diary and working out that 2010 would be a World Cup year? Such rotten planning. What a dum-dum. Read the full article.