A humdinger of an asset

Millicent Binks28 August 2015

Leaning over Octavia's shoulder on the Tube I see she's reading Henry Miller's The Tropic of Cancer, translated into German. I can't help but notice the strange bookmark with letters and markers travelling up it.

She sees me looking and sniggers."This isn't really a bookmark. It's a cock measurer," she admits.

The rumble of the Tube prevents her words from being audible to anyone but Harriet and me, sitting either side of her.

We both lean in. "It's to find the right fit for these new custom condoms. Robert uses them."

Robert is the Playboy Club member she met on New Year's Eve, who quickly went from being a one-night stand to a week-long fling.

"Does he have an abnormally massive humdinger then?" Harriet asks intrigued. "No, he doesn't," says Octavia, matter-of-factly. "He just finds they slip off, and we would end up having to use three in one exasperating session."

I examine the white card measurer. The shortest size is J, and it takes me back to an experience I had in my teens.

"I once saw this guy when I was 19 who spoilt me rotten but then when I discovered he had a J I understood he was trying to compensate for it," I tell the girls - realising that this new code for penis measurements should mean others on the Tube won't understand.

"Well, Anton is a 22," pipes up Harriet. Octavia and I look at each other wide-eyed. Our eyes get wider as she demonstrates the width, making a circle with the card.

Harriet lives next door and I'll never be able to look at her new date in the same way again. He's clearly a little out of proportion.

We jump off the Tube at Oxford Circus ready to hit the January sales with gusto.

I need some new cocktail dresses as I knackered two of my favourites over the holidays. They've been consigned to the "stitch-and-bitch" pile.

I have to look fabulous for Whisky Mist's Wednesday Wonderland tomorrow night. I'm hosting it, so anyone who comes with ID and says "Millicent Binks" on the door can get in free.