Star spangled clangers

On the eve of the final U.S. presidential debate, a yoga teacher and self-styled ‘life coach’ gave a TV interview in which she accused Donald trump of sexually assaulting her eight years ago at the U.S. tennis Open.

In tears and flicking her perfectly coiffured hair, Karena Virginia, 35, said: ‘he walked up to me and reached out his right arm and grabbed my arm. then his hand touched the inside of my right breast. I was in shock. I felt powerless . . . Afterwards, my shock turned to shame.’

tears after all this time? Shame? Shock? Come off it, dear!

If every woman, myself included, was still in break-down mode nearly a decade after a stranger had touched us inappropriately, we’d all be getting treatment in the Priory clinic.

Is it possible that it perhaps crossed Karena’s mind that this publicity in front of millions of Americans might give a boost to her ‘lifestyle’ business?

AS FOR Hillary Clinton, I can forgive her slipperiness over those dodgy deleted emails.

I can overlook the hypocrisy of a self-styled feminist riding on the coat-tails of her husband. I can even ignore her bad-mouthing her hubby Bill’s mistresses.

But what I cannot face is the prospect of four interminable years of her thunder-thighs pant suits. They really are a sin against the sisterhood.