An Ocean View

It’s the trend of 2010: Celebrities getting their gear off to sell magazines – oops, I mean to show how normal they are.

Actually, it began in the late noughties when curvaceous celebs Bianca Dye and Tiffani Wood flaunted their flaws for Madison magazine.

Then Jen Hawkins revealed her unsightly cellulite and uneven skin tone on the cover of Marie Claire.

(Frankly, I don’t know how she can bear to look at herself in the mirror with that disgusting crease on her waist. Ugh!)

So, on the beach last week, it was a rare treat to see a bunch of blokes stripping off to show how flawless they were.

Row upon row of six packs, not seen since the last Dan Murphy’s sale.

Pecs like Pitt.

Buns of steel.

Bulging biceps.

My girlfriend and I forgot about the kids and stumbled towards this sight for sore eyes.

“Nice day for the beach!” another middle-aged mum winked.

Two older women stared, like stunned mullets, as the fellas flexed for the camera.

Now, I don’t normally think of myself as Aunty Pervy.

I’d rather talk to a bloke than ogle him.

Surely men are the ones who like to gape, while women enjoy the finer things: Good humour, companionship, a nice cup of tea, a gentle pat on the hand once in a while.

How wrong I was.

Dozens of women gathered, like moths to a flame, to watch the photo shoot for Men’s Health magazine.

And my, were they healthy.

Each one dropped to the sand to do 20 push-ups before their photos, to pump up their muscles.

(This is not a joke. Models actually do this.)

We wrapped our towels around our bathers lest these perfect specimens spot some varicose veins, bingo flaps or – God forbid – saggy knees.

Like responsible mothers, we allowed our children to run in front of the camera, spoiling the shot so they’d have to do it again.

(Come on – a tired old mummy needs to have some fun!)

Funnily enough, after half an hour we lost interest.

Sure, they looked great, but we didn’t want to touch them.

Those rock-hard bodies look kinda sharp.

Uncomfortable.

Too angular.

I much prefer the comfortable, squishy bits of my handsome, long-suffering husband.

(Long-suffering because he will be mortified when he reads this.)

So I decided to ask my male friends whether they thought the same thing.

Yes, they all said, eyes shining, they’d love to see a bunch of bikini babes on the beach.

But when it comes to who they’d want to take home, personality, humour and squishy bits beat Size 6 every time.

Another, more rigorous, survey found women find men who do housework sexy.

Maybe magazine editors should think outside the square for the next naked photo shoot.

Perhaps a man with a vacuum cleaner covering his private parts? Or a basket of pegs? Maybe a toilet brush?

It’d sell like hotcakes.