A 60-year-old former pin-up and 1970s gamourpuss has decided to take on Tony Blair in the General Election. Olivia Richwald reports on the day Cherri Gilham arrived in Sedgefield.

IT is a very grey day for such a colourful personality to stride into Sedgefield with her Hollywood smile. Bounding across the village green, Cherri Gilham is dressed head to toe in designer black and white wear and stands out like a Dalmatian dog among the villagers who are walking up and down the weather-jaded streets.

It is Cherri's first trip to the Prime Minister's home constituency and she had decided to go for a high impact impression. But she is a woman used to turning heads.

In the 1970s, Cherri starred in glamour films Girls Come First, Confessions of a Sex Maniac and The Stud. She posed for Page Three pictures and was a Hill's Angel on the Benny Hill Show. Now she needs to win votes as she battles to embarrass the Prime Minister under the name Cherri "Blair Out" Gilham.

I meet Cherri at the Cross Hill Hotel in The Square, Sedgefield, where she pitched up the evening before and set about befriending village drinkers.

"Look at this," she says, pulling out a tatty school exercise book full of pencilled names and addresses. "I met them last night and they said they would support me."

Cherri is instantly likeable, relaxed and friendly. We've not even shook hands before she says: "Come with me," grabs my arm and drags me round the corner to the opticians to get her glasses fixed. Here she makes lifelong friends with the nervous shop dog and then walks out leaving shop staff with their eyes agape, starring into her effervescent wake.

After a few minutes, the Echo photographer arrives, hidden from the cold in a black hat and tightly buttoned wax jacket - Cherri is in a fluffy black hat, pushed to the side over her immaculate blond hair, a shiny white DKNY jacket and comfy but fashionable pointy boots. She is a London girl, dressed for a day canvassing in the sticks.

It's the first time our photographer has met Cherri and thrusting out her hand, she says: "Hi, I'm Cherri, pleased to meet you. I've just become a pensioner. Go on, say it, I don't look old enough, I know, where are the lines?"

At this point, it becomes quite clear Cherri has a very different attitude towards men and women. She is a fluffy feminist. As we hit the streets to hand out leaflets, Cherri dons an overlarge 'Bliar' T-shirt with blood drips down the front.

She got into politics after joining her 26-year-old son Marcus on a peace march in 2003. "I have never felt so powerless as when Bliar ignored us and led us into the war in Iraq," she says. "When he took no notice at all of all these people I thought, 'Hang on, we can't be heard.' I thought, 'I have to make a stand,' then I thought 'Sedgefield' as I do actually want Blair out."

After the march, she travelled up to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival where she met rebel MP George Galloway, who was expelled from the Labour Party. Says Cherri: "I said to George, 'I have just become a pensioner, teach me all you know about politics'."

She has had many jobs including being a private detective and working as a household cleaner. She was once the export manager for Twiggy's Dresses, has worked in casinos as a croupier and more recently, has written for newspapers. She says she has had flings with film stars Sylvester Stallone and Omar Sharif.

Now at 60, she has turned her boundless energy and enthusiasm to politics.

"I haven't been steeped in politics, I don't know all the jargon. I am just like anyone else," she admits. "I want to champion the rights of pensioners - this is something I feel I have to do."

Canvassing in the cold January streets is a grim job, especially when the wind whips dust into your eyes and blows away your designer hairdo, but Cherri is a natural with people. She corners a few feisty pensioners and has soon won them around. It is clear people like her, but it is less clear whether they are entertained by her, or if they really do believe she has a chance of denting support for Blair.

Cherri is realistic about her chances of impact in Sedgefield and admits she may bail out of the race before it comes to the vote.

"Me being an ex-glamourpuss may embarrass Blair, that is why I am doing this. It is not for publicity. It is just something I have to do," she says.

"I do know that Blair makes me feel uncomfortable. What is all this bloodshed for? He found £5-7bn for the war, but he hasn't found that for pensioners."

She is desperately worried the Prime Minister will lead Britain into a war with Iran.

After a day-and-a-half meeting the people of Sedgefield, Cherri has decided there really is a gap in the market for a decent Blair alternative.

"Talking to people here, Tony Blair is very unpopular - in fact I haven't spoken to anyone yet who is a Blair supporter. It seems there is a real problem with drugs and people are scared to go into the centre of the village at night."

On the surface, Cherri seems like someone who would be described as a fun risk-taker, who prefers to do things now and worry about the consequences later. But she says she has always been a serious person masquerading as a fun person and is passionate about helping others, especially young people and pensioners.

"I see kids on the streets and I talk to them. They don't see me as a parenty person and I think if I got into politics I could maybe do something groovy for them, something they had chosen themselves."

Later that day after meeting more people in the village, she texts me: "I am going to try and get swings re-installed in Fishburn."

Cherri has thrown herself, eyes closed, into politics. At some point she will land, probably still grinning. She is realistic about her chances, and it seems likely when she has made her point in Sedgefield, she will head home to London where she will start another bid for political stardom, this time starting from the bottom.

* Cherri's website is at www.blairout.org