Forget the election, this summer is about one thing only: big Lesbian Energy

AT a dinner this week in honour of the 15th anniversary of the handsome and enduring music paper, Beat, I noticed the prevalent subject of conversation turned out to be lesbians.

- Paul Flynn

Moving table to table, most seemed to be in thrall to the charming reality TV dating show, I Kissed a Girl. The BBC hit is something of a curio, a wolf in sheep's clothing. It looks slight but has surprisingly sharp lessons to teach, slipped in with minimum fuss and maximum efficacy. At least one fellow diner confessed to having been moved to tears by it.

Outposted to a luxurious Italian villa, under the presenting stewardship of a Minogue sister in full eveningwear drag, five exemplary twentysomething lesbian couples are introduced to one another with a smooch. Will that one kiss lead to them going the distance? Or will someone else catch their eye under the pressure cooker lens of distracting reality TV hijinks? You may not know the old joke: "What does a lesbian bring on her second date? Her furniture. And what does a gay man bring on his second date? His second what?" It's always been an old favourite. I love humour that is sent from the LGBT+ world out, invented by our own observations of ourselves.

Anyway, I Kissed a Girl is very much that, in TV format. One of the original five couples, cute professional footballer Georgia and tattooed Irish goddess Cara, were identified as "very wife" by their fellow contestants within five minutes of meeting.