Whenever I told women - friends or acquaintances - that I had to go to divorce court, they'd invariably, without skipping a beat, ask, 'What are you going to wear?' It was like instant female solidarity: of course it mattered what I was going to wear.

It's one thing to decry and defy political correctness in the name of efficiently achieving clarity or revealing an honest truth. But it's quite another thing entirely to support name-calling and nastiness.

I've spent my life being responsible, building a career, and waiting to find the right partner with whom to start a family.

Women all over this great land are creating spaces just for themselves, most often out of sheds in their backyards. They're fantasy cottages, bespoke bungalows, 'mama maisons,' if you will, for mothers and wives who need a sanctuary - a haven where they can do anything, or nothing.