On the one hand, it's great that there is now such a concept as a Sexy Older Woman, and that that concept embraces women over 60 and not merely those who are old in Hollywood terms (over 31).
It's marvellous, it's fabulous, it's supercalifragilistic that 61-year-old actress Helen Mirren has been voted a pensioner with pulling power after topping a poll – of 1,000 shoppers – to find the sexiest woman over 60.
The very fact that the phrase "woman over 60" can be used in the same sentence as the word "sexy" is a breakthrough in our Americanised, youth-obsessed culture. Unlike the French, we have never been a nation for appreciating the allure of the mature – until now.
And, in the poll, Helen was in the company of a whole stable of women who are still as glamorous and gorgeous as glossy, thoroughbred racehorses, despite being ancient: Joanna Lumley, Charlotte Rampling, Debbie Harry and 80-year-old Honor Blackman.
Blimey! Does this signal the end of Invisible Woman Syndrome? Any woman who has lost the bloom of youth will have experienced this dispiriting scenario – the one where she is overlooked in a shop, at a bar, or when walking into a room – as male attention locks on to the girl giving off "I'm so fertile" pheromones.
So we should be happy, shouldn't we, that our culture is moving on, becoming more enlightened, realising that women beyond childbearing age have much to give in every respect, from boardroom to bedroom.
Well maybe, but there is a downside: celebrity women, who all have a certain amount of money and power and access to image experts and who all look so seemingly effortlessly glam, are raising the bar for the rest of us.
There was a time, and it's not that long ago, when a woman hit 40 and hung up her sex appeal on the hook at the back of the kitchen door, swapping it for a nice, sensible pinny.
Then she rolled off her girdle for the last time, heaved a sigh of relief as her stomach was set free, and finished the transformation by kicking off her heels and slipped into something sturdy and sensible.
In short, she became middle aged, and this was not only acceptable, it was expected. Any woman over the age of 40 who kept her figure was regarded with suspicion. What was she keeping it for, or rather who was she keeping it for?
This all sounds pretty awful, and probably was. But it did have its up side.
If a woman is middle-aged and invisible, there's no doubting the pressure is off. She doesn't have to cut her calorie intake to the bone to stop the otherwise inevitable middle-aged spread, she doesn't have to join a gym and actually do the boring, mindless exercises to keep some semblance of muscle tone, and she doesn't have to spend money she can ill-afford on having her hair regularly coloured or on creams to slather on her ageing skin.
An invisible woman doesn't have to waste massive amounts of brain space worrying about her appearance, plotting to improve it and learning how to look and dress ten years younger.
She doesn't have to pay attention to celebrities and listen to all their twaddle about how they simply pick up a knife and fork and eat healthily to stay young, when in reality it's their surgeon who picks up the knife – to cut out their baggy bits.
So it's nice for Helen that she has been recognised as a 61-year-old siren, but it doesn't half up the ante for the rest of us. It looks like retirement from the game, just like retirement from work, will soon not be an option.

It's not for me...
Billie Piper seems like a great girl to me: surprisingly good actress, not too thin, amicable split from Chris Evans (watch and learn Paul and Heather).
I'm not even appalled that she has written an autobiography at such a tender age, after all Billie has packed a lot in to her 24 years and I'm sure the cash will come in useful.
No, my real problem is that my daughter, who is old enough to know better, still hasn't got over her teenage obsession with celebrity stories, so once again I'll be sent out before Christmas, and once again I'll be handing over a book to the cashier with an embarrassed smile and hearing myself say apologetically and completely unnecessarily: "It's for my daughter, not me."

A life more ordinary
And speaking of beautiful, glamorous women, I think the media coverage of pop star and cancer sufferer Kylie Minogue needs to be approached with a little caution.
Kylie is now in recovery after treatment for breast cancer and every photograph of her shows her to look unbelievably gorgeous, joyous and healthy.
She is said to now be an inspiration to other breast cancer sufferers, and maybe she is.
But I fear there is a danger that these perfect images could have the opposite effect, making ordinary women, who emerge from their cancer treatment without the benefit of the world's best image-makers and looking and feeling awful, that they are in some way inadequate.
A few photographs of Kylie looking ordinary would probably be to the benefit of all.