It's coming up roses for VICTORIA GALLAGHER-O'HOULIHAN

THIS WEEK, I’ve been hearing a lot of chatter from women who mostly look like Soviet-era shot-putters. “The Rose of Tralee is an irrelevant relic,” they say in their deepest haranguing tones. Yawn.

Turn away. Check iPhone. I’ve heard it all before: “It’s demeaning to women to dress them up in frocks to perform party pieces” or “Women are more than just pieces of meat”.

I couldn’t disagree more. Let’s look at the evidence, shall we? The Rose of Tralee is, as we all know, more than a beauty pageant. Its contestants have to talk and sing and everything. How can it be offensive to allow women to do a little dance for a paying audience?

Have none of these so-called detractors made it through finishing school in Switzerland? In my opinion, they can’t have paid nearly enough attention to their lessons. Deportment and etiquette, despite what these people think, are not to be sneezed at.

As a former catwalk frequenter myself I can tell you that walking the runway is not as easy as it looks.

There are so many things to remember – boob tape, smiling, left foot, right foot – and so many jealous, butch women who are ready and primed, waiting for you to make a mistake.

The sad truth is that – yours truly aside – a lot of lady columnists are spiteful and ill-kempt.

We’ve all seen that Lovely Girls episode of Father Ted. We all know that the Rose of Tralee smacks of the Bad Old Days when people went to church even when there wasn’t a wedding on that day. But I’ve seen what some of these other journalists wear – it is not their place to criticise on grounds of fashion, I can assure you.

No. The real problem here is that they don’t like being confronted with the competition.

Ask any guy you know if they want a fix-up with a former Rose of Tralee contestant or a lady journalist with a moustache and shrill opinions and guess who’ll win out every time? That’s right. The one with the depilatories in her bathroom cabinet.

Let’s be pragmatic for a moment. The summer TV schedules are pretty empty. There are only so many slots on Big Brother, and they mostly go to freaks.

Besides, Big Brother, a contest that is watched exclusively by shop girls who vote exclusively for other shop girls, is no place for a media babe, especially not one who is likely to arouse feelings of envy among her gender’s lesser offerings.

You may think that the Rose of Tralee is irrelevant, but just you wait until you fail to secure a spot on Celebrity Bainisteoir, having lost out to the former Rose who did that thing with the ping-pong balls.

Irrelevant? Ha. Is page 6 of Metroirrelevant? I think not. In the end, looking pretty in a frock may not be everything, but just like when a guy is driving a Lamborghini, it sure helps the cause.