Red lights, camera, action

Anyone who hoped that the closure of News of the World might usher in a new era of responsible journalism is in for a big disappointment. This week, it was revealed that the producers of The Only Way Is Essex and Made In Chelsea are working on a new reality show that follows the adventures of five girls on the lookout for wealthy businessmen who can offer them 'financial assistance'. The air-quotes around 'financial assistance' are particularly telling since, by all accounts, any transactions taking place will be predominantly nightstand-based.

Maybe I'm counting my tricks before they've matched, but it certainly seems as though the producers are looking to cast their newest stars from the world's oldest profession. Leading the charge (and happy to charge for it), is Helen Wood, the escort who slept with Wayne Rooney - but not the one who looked like Ena Sharples after a heavy night on the milk stout.

She may only be 24, but Wood is clearly no push-over - that's an extra fifty - she even wrote an article for The Spectator earlier this year, in which she accused the law of a staggering double-standard when it comes to granting injunctions: "I've had many famous clients, so I was almost offended when an actor slapped an injunction on me. My first thought was outrage that he'd think I'd blab... I was never going to talk. When the papers started sniffing around, I applied for an injunction myself, but guess what? I was rejected. So there's one law for rich men - however badly they behave - and quite another for the women they sleep with."

Despite claiming that she'd hung up her escort gear, and was planning to write a tell-all memoir about the world she "briefly occupied", it appears that she's ready to go back on the fame game. Which is why she and four others will be trailed by cameras as they attempt to secure the benefaction of businessmen.

According to a story in The Mirror, the new series was inspired by a dating website called seekingarrangement.com which successfully partners rich men with 'sugar babies'. The site is full of cheap photo library images of silver foxes waving fans of hundred dollar bills, as well as testimonials from satisfied customers like 'Successful CEO', who boasts "I am a very busy man. After using Seeking Arrangement, I met my sugar babies who have brought joy, excitement and passion to my life. Hugh Hefner isn’t the only man who is living the Playboy dream."

Likewise, the girls seem equally happy with the set-up, with 'College Sophomore' proudly declaring "My current arrangement is wonderful. Unlike other cash strapped students, I am pampered with expensive gifts. My sugar daddy is the sweetest man I know. He is my mentor, my benefactor and my lover."

And it must work, because the wily entrepreneurs behind the site have even claimed exclusive ownership of the term 'Mutually Beneficial Relationships', suggesting that anyone not paying by the hour is just kidding themselves if they think that they and their partner are happy and contented. To make matters worse, they're probably in breach of the trademark too.

As for Helen and her co-whorts, the show promises to give us an inside peek into the "exciting, lavish lifestyle" that can be provided by the right kind of arrangement, and it would appear that Channel 4 is chomping at the ball-gag to commission a full series. According to the paper's inside source, "They feel that with the headlines that Helen created from her work as an escort girl, she is perfect to be the face of the new programme." Although I doubt whether it's her face that anyone's particularly interested in.

Forget about 'Secret Diary of a Call Girl' and its tabloid-friendly titillation, this is the real deal. Although I have to question who in their right mind, would consider going on camera to admit that they're paying their arm candy to laugh at their jokes and feed them those little blue pills. Then again, it didn't seem to stop people happily appearing on Showtime's recent cable hit 'Gigolos'. That show focused on the all-male Cowboys4Angels escort agency, and depicted its stars giving their female clients the full service.

Interestingly, the pilot episode explained the legal fig leaf that helps escorts negotiate the thorny issue of prostitution: "We are a companion service and clients pay a rate per hour. First thing you're gonna do is collect the money from the client and then from there, whatever happens between you two is two consenting adults. It's illegal for you to take any money after that for any sort of sexual services or whatever." To paraphrase the Bard, aye there's the rub-n-tug.

Owner of a lonely heart

It's not so long ago that the worst thing about online dating was admitting out loud that you'd tried it. OK, maybe that's not strictly true. The worst thing was actually scanning a cafe menu for whatever would take the least amount of time to prepare and consume, once you'd realised that your perfect match had been as generous with the truth as they had with the trans-fats.

These days, no-one bats an eyelid at hooking up with someone who, several hours previously, only existed in binary. We've all been there, done that, and wiped it up with the T-shirt. What once seemed daring and exciting, is now about as edgy as doing a line of Coffee-Mate. 

That's why shows like Blind Date don't exist anymore. They're simply too archaic; representative of a simpler time. Well, that and the fact that Cilla Black is now too busy cursing the luckless adventurers who broke the seal on her sarcophagus.

With everyone now fully au fait with the intricacies of online dating, the phenomenon has evolved to incorporate a wider range of services. So we now have sites like 'My Single Friend' - Sarah Beeny's solution for introducing the outer rim of our social circle to anyone who'll tolerate their idiosyncrasies, if there's a chance they'll get laid at the end of the evening. Or there's Grindr, which lets gay men arrange a hook-up in the time it takes to walk home from the tube station.  

The biggest challenge with all of these sites, is that they're still dependent on the importance of chemistry. So I guess it was inevitable that someone would find a way of bridging the gap between the aspirational and the attractive - by boiling things down to what really counts. Cold, hard cash.

WhatsYourPrice.com takes the principle of the world's oldest profession, and applies it to those who have, until now, maintained their amateur status. It seems that everyone has a price, whether they're buying or selling, and this site simply acts as Cupid's Paypal. The website claims that its "patent pending dating system (US Patent Pending: Application No. 61407831) provides a platform where generous and attractive singles can negotiate and agree on a price for a first date." So it's a street corner with a modem attached.

If you're a wealthy benefactor, or just have a roll of twenties burning a conveniently-shaped hole in your pocket, you can pledge whatever amount you're prepared to pay for a date. Alternatively, if you think you're simply too hot to date for free, you can name your price and wait for the offers to come rolling in.

The site says "...dating doesn't have to be a waste of time. If you're beautiful, we are the only dating site that guarantees you will get paid while you spend time meeting fun and generous people." It couldn't be more pimpy if it was wearing a fur-trimmed zebra-skin hat.

Morality aside, there's something fundamentally distasteful about a site that's predicated on the same bag-a-bargain principle as Bid-Up TV. It's OK promising a range of "beautiful, gorgeous or sexy people", but would you really want to score with someone who's willing to settle for $20?

Everyone likes to be seen sporting a hot piece of arm candy. But there are few bragging rights to be enjoyed when the beauty in question can be scored for the price of a KFC bargain bucket. And I'd be willing to speculate that the similarities don't end there.

The illusion of control

Great news everybody - the Pope has come to his senses and told the world to 'rubber up'. No longer will poverty-stricken people in the third world be condemned to the uncontrolled transmission of disease, or ever-growing broods of kids they're incapable of feeding. It's finally OK to snap on a prophylactic. Well, kind of. 

Everyone's favourite one-time Nazi has participated in the writing of a new book. And excerpts from the forthcoming bestseller have suggested that the Catholic Church is on the verge of softening its hardline stance of contraception. 

But it's probably be going to be some time before the Pope advocates widespread non-procreative fuckery. For the moment, the only people allowed to pick-up something for the weekend are rent-boys.

Responding to a question about the church's condemnation of safe sex practices, the Pontiff said: "In certain cases, where the intention is to reduce the risk of infection, it can nevertheless be a first step on the way to another, more humane sexuality." Admittedly, 'humane' and 'sexuality' aren't words one might automatically associate with the Pope, so perhaps things are changing for the better.

Asked about which 'certain cases' he had in mind, Benedict explained: "There may be a basis in the case of some individuals, as perhaps when a male prostitute uses a condom, where this can be a first step in the direction of a moralization, a first assumption of responsibility." 

I'm sure street-corners around the world are crammed with young men in short-shorts currently gripping their rosaries in relief that they can finally take responsibility for their own sexual health. Unless of course it's a case of too little too late. By the time someone's embraced their homosexuality and decided to charge elderly priests for it, they're probably not holding out for Papal approval. 

As well as this remarkable u-turn on the issue of condoms, it's also nice to see what passes for authorship these days. After the CD, DVDs, tour souvenirs, and now an 'interview-based' book, it's clear that the Pope is out to rival Katie Price for multi-media ubiquity. Let's see if he turns out at our local Waterstones to promote Light of the World: The Pope, the Church and the Signs of the Times in a see-though body stocking and candy pink wig...

Hard to Miss

When Pretty Woman was released in 1990, not everyone was taken in by its post-modern take on the Cinderella story. Arguing that the film couldn't have been more fantastical if Julia Roberts had faced off against a flaming Balrog, critics accused movie producers of portraying the world's oldest profession in an irresponsibly positive light.

They had a point. Vivian may have been treated to a shopping spree on Rodeo Drive, but for most streetwalkers, real life is decidedly less romanticised. And it's fraught with danger.

As well as STDs, dubious clients and unscrupulous pimps, prostitutes have a whole bunch of other risks to contend with. Thongs can cause terrible chaffing, stilettos lead to all manner of calf and ankle complaints, and then there's the hairspray asphyxiation. As careers go, it's more fraught with peril than mining in Chile.

Over in Spain, another occupational hazard has been identified for those hard-working ladies of the night - rural traffic. Apparently, hookers plying their trade outside of the Lleida city limits are hard to spot and have been told to don the appropriate safety apparel.

The women have a simple choice (no, not in-the-front or round-the-back) - wear a high-visibility yellow vest or face a €40 fine. Local police claim that they're not unfairly targeting the girls, but the policy was necessary because they actually pose a danger to drivers.  If nothing else, it's going to make curb-crawling a hell of a lot easier. 

Still, you have to feel for the women who are now expected to ensnare sexually frustrated yokels whilst wrapped in nylon outerwear seldom seen outside of a building site. Any man who finds the luminous yellow vest sexually appealing probably isn't looking for a comely young lass to spend the evening with. 

Then again, what do I know? The Telegraph reports that a recent survey found that one in four men has paid for sex, so in theory the women could dress themselves in binbags and still not see a dip in trade. And if they decided to add a few bedazzlements to pretty up their work-wear, they'd be even easier to spot on a moonlit country road. Everybody wins. 

Your secret's out

This has not been a good week for celebrities indulging in a little extra-curricular activity. Sam and Kate's relationship hit an iceberg when it emerged that he's been getting 'close' to actress Rebecca Hall.

Just days later it was Sandra Bullock and Jesse James taking their turn in the limelight. The tabloids loved the idea that whilst Sandra was busy earning her Oscar on the set of The Blind Side, her rough-around-the-edges hubby was dipping his tattoo needle in some seriously grotty ink. Michelle 'Bombshell' McGee may have grown up Amish, but she made up for lost time by transforming herself into a human park bench - covered in graffiti and offering tramps a bed for the night.

We were even treated to an update on Tiger's ongoing trauma, as porn star Joslyn James launched a website dedicated to the texts Tiger sent her - from one pro to another. The golfing God has always seemed like the strong but silent type, which is just as well, considering the quality of his chat-up lines - "I would love to have the ability to make you sore." Hope she stocked up on Canesten first.

But my favourite celebrity sex revelation of the week was Karl Lagerfeld's announcement that he likes to pay for his boy-toys. The desiccated designer believes that sex in a relationship never lasts, so he prefers to leave his money on the dresser.

For someone known for his plain-speaking opinions, it's a little surprising that Karl opts for the age-old euphemism 'high-class escort' rather than 'rent boy'. For the record, 'high-class escort' is an oxymoron. If they give you a blow-job and change, class doesn't come into it. Chances are, it just means that you're paying over the odds.

Kind-hearted Karl also pointed out that, although prostitutes are a viable option for the rich, for everyone else there's always porn. And he has a lot of respect for the performers who work hard for the money in films like 'Harry Squatter' and 'Dawson's Crack'.

As Karl says, "I also think it’s much more difficult to perform in porn than to fake some emotion on the face as an actor." He's right, you can't fake most of the things that end up on a porn actor's face.

Since Karl doesn't believe in gay marriage (he thinks it's all rather bourgeois, and he prefers to be 'different'), it looks as though Karl will have to keep paying for it. Which is just as well, since I can't imagine that looking like the Crypt Keeper gets Karl too many offers.

I'm sure he'd be the first to admit that true love is priceless. And for everything else, there's Mastercard.