Only half an inch

In WHSmiths on Saturday, after I'd flicked through the worthy Alan Bennett memoir and the brilliant Devil Wears Prada (opening with a girly gear-change-panic scene), I couldn't help picking up Mrs B's latest advice work, 'That Extra Half Inch'.

Sadly, it's not Mrs Beeton, and she isn't talking about roulade. It's Victoria Beckham, presenting her fashion tips in a last-ditch attempt to make some money from being a superstar nobody. The title is anyone's guess. As she explained in a recent press conference: "How it works is, you think it's about men's penises, but it's actually not at all. Clever, innit?"

Anyway, I fingered the half-inch with intrigue, but I couldn't open it - they're all cellophane-wrapped like Madonna's SEX was (or was that brown paper)? I suspect the contents aren't as revolutionary, but all the same, I quite fancied finding out about Mrs B's guiding fashion principles. I mean, say what you like about her, but the girl knows how to put an outfit together in the mornings. You wouldn't find her writing books wearing three layers of jumpers and an old pair of trousers covered in cat hair. No, the woman has staff for that.

So I was pleased to find that the Guardian published a concise summary of the book this weekend. It went something like this: Buy expensive hair products, don't muddle up vintage with second-hand (gah!), don't let your thong show, and make sure you get a pair of great jeans. Oh, and a girl should have wardrobefuls of sunglasses. (Like we didn't know that was coming.)

But I still don't know what the half-inch refers to. Distance between spine and belly-button? Circumference of brain? Whatever it is, doubt I'll ever get there. But it's fun to dream.