I love those! I suspect they kept me alive ... I used to have a 20km commute to one of my jobs down a highway and then along three busy roads, all of which were full of work-destined motorists and lorries, almost all of which were driven by men. I would wear a pair of lycra shorts or tights with a flippy miniskirt over the top and a lycra top with a push-up bra underneath. I rode in and out at the same time every day. Lorry drivers would wait patiently behind me until a safe overtaking opportunity presented itself, motorists would wave and grin as they drove past. It was the safest I ever felt cycling in Sydney.

One day I hit some glass and punctured my tyre, so stopped by the side of the road to fix it. Two cars stopped to help me, and both the drivers said "Cycling girl! Good to meet you!" They didn't press phone numbers on me, they were polite and helpful, but they both joked about how it was cheery to see me in my little flippy skirts every morning and afternoon doing my bit against global warming.

I recounted this story to a friend in the lift at work the next day. I jokingly said "But I'm left wondering why the women motorists don't cause me grief."

She grinned and said "It's because they're all running the cost-benefit analysis: is it worth turning up at work covered in sweat and with hair like a bird's nest for those thighs? Or should I just kick it harder at he gym?" Up until then I had been convinced the deodorant was working ...