Her critics say she has devolved into a nakedly defiant, money-grabbing, ungrateful wench, writes Quentin Fottrell.
WHAT HAS she done? Before this day is out, Fair Éire will be caught stark naked in the glare of the media spotlight . . . twice in one week. Except for a layer of false tan, she is exposed and appears to be loving the attention.
She used to be a blushing bride, with a veil, heavy nylon stockings and handsome dowry, but her harshest critics now say she has devolved into a nakedly defiant, money-grabbing, ungrateful wench.
On the ominous Friday 13th, the results showed 862,415 people voted No to the Lisbon Treaty, many as a protest vote, and illustrated to the world what lay behind our prosperous, happy-go-lucky pro-European facade. It's the political equivalent of streaking at a soccer match.
Today, several hundred people will also strip off in Cork for the American photographer Spencer Tunick. We are ready to show the world what we're made of.
As far as rejection of Lisbon goes, stripping away all other differences makes for strange bedfellows.
We have Tony Benn, David Cameron, Gerry Adams, the Daily Telegraphand Socialist Workerall calling for the treaty to be declared dead. And I don't mean dead as in Friday the 13th horror movie dead, where the murderer is killed only to jump up again when you least expect it. I mean dead as in RIP.
Both sides of the argument had cellulite. On the one hand, there was a large protest vote that had nothing to do with Lisbon. (One taxi driver: "I voted No because there are too many taxis on the road!")
On the other, Ireland taking EU funds is not comparable to poor Catholics "taking the soup". (A newspaper article from Canada: "The Irish may want to recall what they owe the EU . . . Gratitude, it would appear, is in short supply.")
However, the petulant protest voters have left us with our trousers down in public. Under the Designer-Clad Plastic Paddy lies the Stark-Naked Protest Paddy with the same genetic culture of victimhood you can trace back to the Famine, and the same distrust and paranoia of government. The Stark-Naked Protest Paddy tried to be a good little European, but decided the designer European labels didn't fit.
Alan Greenspan, former head of the Federal Reserve, might have a suggestion as to why. He wrote in his memoir, The Age Of Turbulence: "All people appear motivated by an inbred striving for self-esteem that is in large part fostered by the approval of others."
In other words, even if people are rich and have no real cause for complaint, they still need to feel like they are being respected and are being listened to.
In other naked news, people will pose for Spencer Tunick in Cork today (and in Dublin on Saturday).
His photographs of thousands of naked bodies from Chile, Barcelona, Mexico and Switzerland are strangely empowering and humbling. Tunick says he has seen more than 100,000 people naked, more than anyone in the world. (EU president José Manuel Barroso et al can beat that with their 862,415.)
Tunick is not without his own brand of bureaucracy. Here are some of the official requirements for his Irish volunteers: they must be available all day, have a good level of fitness, the ability to speak loudly in a crowd (not a problem!), the ability to carry some props and production equipment such as ladders and megaphones, and the ability to receive and understand instructions quickly (that could be a problem!).
But Tunick is no turnip. He recently told this newspaper that his naked subjects could easily feel objectified, even if he does give them a limited edition print of the photograph, but says he avoids that: "People that actually do it come out with a different feeling, they feel like they're making an artwork. So the people that think that they know what it feels like, they really will never know unless they participate."
Unlike you-know-who, Tunick marshals his troops because they feel they are working towards a common goal and, by making them feel like participants rather than subjects, he meets their innate need for approval.
Also, his subjects are on equal footing, so they don't mind hanging around all day in the nip. (An ill wind could make them feel cold . . . and hurt the men's feelings, if you know what I mean.)
I won't be taking off my tunic for Tunick. I did that once before on a naturist beach in Dubrovnik and once was enough, thank you very much. When I happened upon the naturist sign, "No Clothes Beyond This Point", I did exactly what it said.
I also feared that a militant naturist community would descend on me if I didn't. I took off my T-shirt and the rest and nervously marched on beyond the point of no return.
With only factor 30, a rucksack and sunglasses, I looked a giant fruit fly on the rocks. When I arrived on the beach, I was horrified: I was the only one naked! That story is for anyone who finds themselves suddenly exposed, those who voted No in protest or strip off for art. I know how you feel.
In the meantime, a warm front from continental Europe should help our much maligned and disrobed Fair Éire breathe a little easier.