THE latest answer to how women over 30 can end their dreadful sentence of singledom can be found in Rachel Greenwald's book called The Program: Fifteen Steps to Finding a Husband After 30.

In her publicity hype, we are told that she went to Harvard Business School and she based her book on the marketing techniques she learned there.

In it, she tells us that while she was in her 20s, she threw a party specifically to find a husband because she didn't want to be single by the time she reached 35. So that's the kind of woman we are dealing with. She probably irons her underwear too.

She goes on to say that nothing is too far-fetched in the marketing plan for marriage. If surgical enhancement or radical dieting is going to help you find a partner, then go book the Botox, girlfriend.

I would need a fair few adjustments in the image department. I would have to make it a habit to wash my hair regularly and not to wear my 'bed' jumper to work, as I shamefully do now.

Some of her suggestions are more puzzling. She says one way to 'guerrilla market' yourself is to hang out in cafes and supermarkets with an interesting item designed to provoke curiosity, such as a book with a foreign slogan on it.

Seeing as my family has a lot of Arabic books at home, this could be a way forward for me. I could take my mum's Quran to our local Sainsbury's, and stand by the in-store off licence, clutching Arabic scriptures with a feverish hope in my eyes while I look around for my supermarket target. Then again, some people might get the wrong idea.

Another suggestion is to turn up to car shows and golf driving ranges, or better still, throw a program party in which I spend around ten minutes talking to each guest. Parties could be a problem as I only have enough acquaintances to fill a small toilet cubicle but more man-centred hobbies could be arranged. I would draw the line at car maintenance but I would consider Crazy Golf, if that counts.

Once I get myself a prospective life-partner, I have to clutch on to him for dear life, and bring the issue of lifetime commitment to a head by pretending the lease on my flat will be ending soon.

As fantastical as her thesis sounds, I remember how some of my more 'focused' friends reeled in a partner in their 20s with what seemed like a game plan. Some were so wild-eyed in their pursuit for the genes of a successful hunter gatherer, I saw babies reflected in their eyeballs each I time I looked at them.

Sadly, I was too busy getting my nose pierced and having fun with the girls to market myself.

And now, while all these focused friends roam red-eyed through the night, wiping their babies' bottoms and listening to them screech, I have to make do with the penance of partying the night away with other like-minded people. What a price to pay!