**Cucumber Cool But Sexy As A Gherkin

Be honest: London is not a sexy city. Take a good look around. Do you see more than one velour-clad teenager in your Tube carriage squeezing her size-14 rear into size-ten tracksuit bottoms? Sexy? I think not. See that businessman wiping the sweat from his brow with the hairy back of his hand, before sliding his fingers over his trouser leg? Attractive? Doubtful.

London has a problem. We can do cool. We can do class. We can even do city sleek. But we cannot, I repeat cannot, do sexy.

The problem is as much historical as contemporary. Was Nell Gwynne sexy? No; she was the 17th century's equivalent of Jordan, only with better acting skills. Was Robin Hood really one of our nation's sexiest heroes? I'll say it in three words: he wore tights.

Fast-forward to London's current pin-ups. Prince William is balding, Amy Winehouse makes Kurt Cobain look clean and Russell Brand is a walking advert for that smear test you've been postponing. Never have I looked at a famous Londoner and thought: I want to be in bed with you. Now.

We could take a leaf from the sexy books of our foreign friends. In Buenos Aires, their most phallic building is called the Torre de los Ingleses, literally "Tower of the English". Yet an equally erect structure in London gets called the Gherkin. Yummy, I say. Give me a side order of that with my pickled egg.

Or perhaps we should look to the French, who actually know how to smell good: their women dab perfume, they don't spray. Here's a tip ladies: don't douse Britney Spears' Curious all over you as if trying to ward off mosquitoes in Africa. A gentle application to the pulse points is far likelier to be the ticket to a successful night. Remember: subtle is sexy.

I've lived in London almost all my life and believe it's the coolest place on the planet. Our miserable climate is counterbalanced by our dry wit. And no other country can claim to be the best sporting losers in the world. But it is lonely. With no sex, we have to rely on our "cool" to see us through. Amy Macdonald summed up the capital's affliction perfectly on her recent album: It's so rock 'n' roll to be alone.