03/04/2012 17:20 BST | Updated 03/06/2012 06:12 BST

Samantha Brick Has Made Daily Mails Of Us All

Samantha Brick, to use a parlance I'd never normally use in print - or, to be fair, in the pub, where I'd be far cruder - is 'a bit of alright'.

But my opinion of her looks is beside the point. The reason Twitter has got its woolly knickers in a twist is because she thinks she's a bit of alright, which got me thinking about modesty, and how it is without a doubt the most overrated virtue of them all.

This isn't a woman claiming to be Scarlett Johansson. Indeed, she says: "While I'm no Elle Macpherson, I'm tall, slim, blonde and, so I'm often told, a good-looking woman."

In other words, she's attractive enough for it to have occasionally affected how people behave towards her over the course of her life.

Now it could be she's self-deluded, and no one has ever done anything of the sort.

It could equally be that, while everyone else is too fraught with self-doubt to notice, she's merely confident enough to see the truth for it is - that men over-compensate around women, and not only the supermodels either.

But either way: who cares? A woman thinks she is pretty, and is prepared to say so out loud? Rejoice! How wonderful! What fantastic news!

I've spent my entire life surrounded by female friends and girlfriends, all beautiful, all to the last one programmed to saying anything self-deprecating they can think of, to draw attention to their flaws endlessly, to never, ever admit - though you pray they know it really - that they are beautiful.

Men are a bit different. After being a typically self-doubting teen, I underwent a personal revolution (or so it felt at the time) around 18 and suddenly saw myself as very attractive indeed. I know, I know - but then you believe a lot of far-fetched stuff at that age.

But that period of confidence - oh hell, call it arrogance - worked wonders for my self-esteem. When I stopped looking in the mirror and seeing my fat nose and my skinny chest and started seeing a nice pair of eyes and smile instead, my personality became more attractive. I felt happier. I grew out of the arrogance (mostly), but my self-image found a sense of balance.

There is no more exhausting and pointless a waste of energy than fretting over your body or your looks unnecessarily, and so many men and women seem to do it to the point where it defies all rational thought.

We claim to want everyone to be walking around feeling better about themselves and less brainwashed by the beauty myth and yet look what happens when one woman - and a cruel editor, no shadow of a doubt about that - expresses some satisfaction with how she looks.

The response has been disgusting - everything the Mail was hoping for and more. In fact, for all Twitter likes to get holier than thou about the nation's nastiest paper, the reaction to this innocuous piece has made Daily Mails of us all.