On my way to the final day of rehearsals I was walking through the shopping centre on Hammersmith roundabout, I walked passed the Ann Summers shop. You may be aware of this franchise which sells sex toys and sexy outfits and rampant rabbits and so forth.

In the window are three or four mannequins dressed in sex stockings and PVC costumes. As I approached a small grey haired man in a suit was coming the other way. Unaware of me observing him he looked at the kinkily dressed shop window dummies and pleased with what he saw, smiled to himself. It was a smile of appreciation rather than amusement.

It made me laugh on several levels. Firstly it was amusing that even though he was alone he was unable to internalise his slight excitement at seeing a sexy sight. Secondly, more importantly it seemed almost charming that a man in his late fifties would not yet have become inured to the sight of sexy underwear on a mannequin. I am only 39 and I have to say it does nothing for me any more. When I was about five a naked mannequin would seem a rude and slightly exciting thing, but as I have become older I have come to recognise that it is not actually an arousing thing. Maybe when I was older an item of woman's underwear might be slightly arousing, but now I need more to get me going. The glee on the man's face suggested otherwise.

He was happy to see dummies in bras. It made him smile a satisfied smile. I think had the window had real women standing in the gaudy underwear that I might have wanted to have a second look. But I am not sexually excited by mannequins and anyone who says I am is lying. This smartly dressed old man though perhaps saw something that I did not. Maybe in another twenty years the sight of a plastic women in plastic clothes will be enough to ring my bell. I'll keep you posted on that.

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