Growing up as a leggy teenager going to an all-girls school in suburban Campbelltown, I first thought being irresistible was drowning myself in Musk Oil while swishing my long Farrah Fawcett hair.

At my first disco with the local boy’s school, I came in for some focused attention and wandering hands, as I was broadcasting raging come-hither signals when all I really wanted was someone to go and see Star Wars with, and share a bucket of popcorn.

After that fiasco, I studied in-depth articles in the fount of all wisdom – Dolly magazine. They were filled with sage advice such as “Be yourself” and “Let the true you shine through” and I took it to heart.

At the next school disco, I went too far the other way and wore a home-made gingham Dorothy from Wizard of Oz dress when all the other girls were in spaghetti strapped sequin frocks.

Needless to say, the nun’s lighthouse-strength flashlights were not required that night as the boys broke land speed records heading in the other direction from me. I was the same person, but the first impression I gave was radically different and the results matched.