Selected Articles and Speeches
Fat Report | November 2012, SMH
Along with maths, English and geography, do you want to a subject called “weight” on your kids’ report cards?
Hands up all those who, like me, shout “No!”
The proposal from Australian academic and medico David Penington that children’s weight should be recorded and then feature on school report cards is so bone-headed and wrong, I barely know where to begin.
How about we skip the “Night Before School Weigh-In” - accompanied by the sound of thousands of children regurgitating their dinner down the toilet after perusing websites on dieting, anorexia and bulimia.
Forty Something Sex | April 2005, Womens Weekly
The sex life of the modern forty-something woman is one of the world’s great practical jokes. She finally knows what gives her sexual pleasure and has the confidence to ask for it only to find that she’s too tired and busy to bother. No wonder we like watching television shows like Desperate Housewives and Sex and the City. They’re like those home renovation shows where you get to watch someone do all the things you’d love to get around to. Only, instead of watching someone make a quilt or stencil the walls in the sun room, you’re watching women who have managed to put on lip stick, brush their hair and actually have sex!
Charles and Camilla | April 2005, The Bulletin
Break out the Baileys Irish Cream and Tim Tams, pass the Kleenex! Here, at last, is a wedding worth watching.
Think of the excitement and celebration as millions of people all over the world tune in to their televisions watch a radiant Camilla walking down the aisle of Westminster Abbey in her flowing white satin wedding gown and diamond tiara . OK, maybe it won’t happen quite like that.
See then, the happiness as hundreds greet Camilla, looking quite presentable in her navy blue linen suit and matching hat, as she appears at the door of the bridal registry at the Guildhall . Maybe a tad optimistic.
Australian Story | 2004, Marie Claire
I can’t really remember when I realised I wasn’t the same as the other girls. It dawned on me slowly. Maybe in the same way that you began to understand that all the girls you knew had blonde hair and yours was a dull mousy brown; or that you had a bigger nose than everyone else; or your ears stuck out; or that all the models in the magazines had long legs and yours were disappointingly short. No matter how many times my family told me I was beautiful, there were early signs that all was not well. There was the way people would look at me sideways on the bus and mothers would tell their children “Stop staring at that poor little girl.” When they knew their mothers weren’t looking, they’d whisper “What happened to your face?”