Last week, the women of Britain described in precise detail what they Most Wanted from men.
The 40,000 female subscribers to the dating website UKdating.com have a wish list of 20 swooning criteria which, when put together, make up the ultimate man.
So what is he like? Well, he is tall (at least 5ft 10in), dark and handsome. (Of course he is.)
And he has all the externals that women think they want: money, eyes (blue ones), his own property, a university degree and a silver Mercedes.
He doesn't smoke, likes eating out and the cinema but hates football.
He's clean-shaven and likes pets.
He has never been married but has had three serious relationships (and no more than six sexual partners).
He won't have any children and, being medium build, he'll weigh in at 12st 7lb.
He's the Perfect Man.
All my life I, too, have dreamed of this man, while keeping him at a distance. In the meantime, I have test-driven the Imperfect Man - and ridden him off the road.
Since I was 16, I have gone out with gay men, fat men, married men; men who ring their mothers six times a day; men who want me to dress up as a maid; and men who are, well, dwarves.
If there were men with antlers, I would doubtless have dated them, too.
I have chosen imperfect men because, bluntly, they make me look better. I am a loser-cruiser. But, reader, I have lost. I am 34 and still single.
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