ANNABEL FENWICK ELLIOTT: I know women hate me. And there are two big, perfectly shaped and very pert reasons why…

I have fantastic breasts. You can (and probably will) say all sorts of other horrid things about me, but you can’t argue with me about that. They’ve served me well with men over the years – but invited just as much aggression from women.

So, I haven’t been at all surprised by the female-fuelled hysteria surrounding Sydney Sweeney’s frankly genius new nude advertising campaign. The actress has been pilloried for doing a disservice to women’s sports, notwithstanding the fact that in the video she’s not promoting sports – Novig is a betting company.

It is also a company that she has shares in, and has worked as creative director for, so really, she’s a business-savvy woman using her own body in her own way to sell her own product. As she should. Theoretically, it is a feminist win.

Indeed, when Serena Williams poses naked on the front cover of magazines, it’s ‘empowering’. ‘But she’s a real sportswoman!’ I hear you screech. Fine. When Jamie Dornan, a fellow actor, strips off for Calvin Klein, no one bats an eyelid either.

So what’s the problem with Sweeney? It’s simple. She has fantastic breasts – with the added crime of being white and, even worse, Right-wing (she is a registered Republican). Women like that simply shouldn’t be allowed on billboards. That’s the gist of it.

Being white and centre-Right myself, with an excellent set of 32DDs, I can relate. They’re a blessing and a curse. I’m certain they’ve moved me forward in life, in all sorts of ways.

An ample, gravity-defying bosom is unbelievably powerful. When Eva Herzigová’s famous ‘Hello Boys’ Wonderbra adverts appeared in Britain in 1994, they were blamed for multiple car crashes after reportedly distracting drivers.

Personally speaking, as a teen, they helped me get into VIP sections at snooty clubs. They were also the source of blatant envy from my peers at school. Around girls, therefore, I’d button my uniform shirt up to the top. In the presence of boys, I’d opt for low-cut blouses.

In my early 20s, I was a ‘fit model’ for a lingerie company, essentially acting as a human mannequin while bras were measured and altered on my body. They were literally paying me for my perfect chest proportions.

Professionally, I have no doubt they’ve been useful, especially in my earlier years when I was working in advertising. Why else would all the senior men there have been so nice to me, while the women despised me? I distinctly remember one of the agency partner’s personal assistants snarling at me in a meeting full of colleagues: ‘Must be nice, not having to wear a bra.’

It’s obvious when men glance down at your cleavage, and equally noticeable when women do it – the difference being, of course, that it makes men smile and women scowl. This was the case throughout my fledgling career.

I wasn’t particularly beautiful or hilariously witty or stupendously intelligent. But what I did have – to drive the point home – was knockout knockers.

There’s science behind why men love them. In evolutionary terms, they’re hardwired to seek out attributes in females that might make them good mothers. A big bosom looks like it could produce ample milk for their offspring.

Women, therefore, view this as competition. A 2024 study from Texas A&M International University found that ladies with large breasts are more likely to suffer verbal abuse from other women, who find them ‘threatening’. 

Scientists enlisted 114 females who were shown various images of breasts that had been manipulated to be different sizes and levels of sagginess.

‘Breast size contributed to rival derogation towards other women, with women with larger breast sizes more likely to be the victims of verbal and indirect aggression,’ the researchers concluded.

Catty bullying aside, there’s good evidence to suggest that bigger, better boobs make women happier in life. Anecdotally, all the friends I’ve known who have undergone breast augmentation surgery have found it to have a hugely positive impact. And according to a 2024 meta-analysis published in the Journal of Plastic, Reconstructive & Aesthetic Surgery, boob jobs tend to more than double patients’ social and sexual wellbeing.

Sweeney knows full well that her extraordinary breasts are unrivalled, especially given they are natural. I bet they’re individually insured for many millions. Why on earth shouldn’t she flaunt them? And profit from them? Very few of us had ever heard of Novig until she fronted the campaign.

I doubt we’d have seen the same furore if an actress regarded as more demure had posed in the exact same way, juggling footballs against her bare chest. Keira Knightley, say. Why? Because Knightley has very small, neat breasts.

For the same reason, I could wear a floor-length gown with a deep V neckline and look, to many, tarty. That identical dress on a flat-chested woman would be deemed elegant.

My own prized assets are still just about holding up, but I’m currently breastfeeding my second baby and I fear that, by the time I’m finished, this will have taken its toll. Inevitably, they’ll drop south. After which, I fully intend on having them surgically restored to their former glory.

Dr Tunc Tiryaki, the esteemed cosmetic surgeon who performed my rhinoplasty several years ago, was brutally honest when he last assessed me.

‘Darling,’ he said, ‘there is no way the human body can go through multiple pregnancies and remain unscathed, including yours.’ He is already on standby for when I’ve finished breastfeeding.

There will inevitably be scores of women who will read the headline of this article, see my photos, and feel irritated – perhaps even outraged – just as so many supposed feminists were rattled by Sweeney’s advert. If that’s you, it’s worth asking yourself why.

Aren’t you also horrified by cultures that force women to cover themselves in baggy black fabric from head to toe? Those who control women and prevent them from having a voice? If so, realign your logic and leave me, Sydney Sweeney and her glorious, unrestrained bosom alone.