Is it just ME?

Or do bingo wings put every midlife woman in a flap?

I CAN’T remember who first said that a woman should never wave goodbye after the age of 30, but damn their eyes. The latest to succumb to upperarm paranoia is tennis matriarch Judy Murray.

Describing seeing herself on TV at Wimbledon, she said: ‘Everything wobbles in slow motion . . . I’m never wearing a vest top ever in my life again.’

If wiry, athletic Mrs Murray feels self-conscious about her arms, then there is no hope for the rest of us. The Government should immediately introduce tax breaks for sleeves.

The difficulty is that, rather like cellulite, bingo wings are no indicator of size or fitness. You either carry fat in that area or your don’t. Even if you don’t, sooner or later you’ll get the sag. And if you’re really lucky, you get both. Ain’t life grand?

There are things you can do. Yoga is brilliant at targeting the triceps — those reticent muscles responsible for that part of the anatomy. That’s why stars like Madonna are so fond of their sun salutations.

But you can have triceps of steel and still have excess wobbles in that area. That’s because underarm fat — and its annoying first cousin, back fat — is peculiar to female hormones. In my case, it got worse after two bouts of breastfeeding.

I would now rather show my knees than my upper arms, sweating my way through a workout in long sleeves instead of subjecting my fellow gym-goers to the sight of my mushroom-coloured (I cannot remember the last time they saw the light of day) bingo wings.

As for summer, that’s what floaty sleeves and crisp linen are for. A word of warning: never, ever believe a bolero, cropped cardy or cap sleeve will help — you might just as well slap a big red sticker on them saying: ‘Bingo wings here!’