The Irish accent – thanks largely it seems to the singular efforts of Colin Farrell – has just been declared the sexiest in the world, coming top in a poll of 5,000 women worldwide. The Italians came second, Scots third, and former perennial favourite, the French only managed fourth, just ahead of the Australians. The top ten was completed by the English, Swedish, Spanish, Welsh and Americans.

A spokesman for OnePoll.com, which carried out the international survey, blamed French president Nicolas Sarkozy for the French accent’s fall from grace, which is a lot to pin on one man – and clearly they didn’t survey Carla Bruni.

But Sarkozy can paddle his own canoe, because this is our moment – we’ve gone from a stage-Irish image of rolling drunks to the proud possessors of the sexiest accent on the planet.

Even better news for those still looking for love is that the study also found three-fifths of women admitted they have been seduced by someone purely because of their accent, while two-fifths said they would much rather sleep with a man who had a nice accent, compared to a harsh one.

So if we stick to the phone and the dark, we should be fine.That said, we need a little more information to determine just which Irish accent makes these people do weak at the knees.

Colin Farrell is a given, but was it the swearing Colin from In Bruges or the American Colin as Sonny Crocket from Maimi Vice?

And who else turns the ladies on? Might they have a soft spot for the soft ‘th’s of de real Taoiseach, Bertie Ahern, with his dis, dat and does? Could it be the authoritative tones of Dr Ian Paisley in full flow on the fact that there will be no surrender? Or is it the fruity tones of Graham Norton or Brian Dowling they had in mind?

Is Jackie Healy Rea the voice that turns the ladies to putty? Could it be that the world wide web is tuning in to hear the animated tones of Micheal O Muircheartaigh? Or do they think we’re all like Terry Wogan.

Maybe of course it’s the dulect female tones of, say, Nell McCafferty they’re thinking of - but let’s cling to the fig leaf that it’s the male accent they’re dreaming of.

Then again maybe they believe the Irish accent is that deployed by Tom Cruise in Far and Away or John Wayne in the Quiet Man.

It’s not that we have a problem with the Hollywood version of an Irish accent; it’s just that we’d like to know which persona to adopt so that we make the most use of our new-found sexy status.

Some years ago, BBC Radio Scotland ran a most unscientific survey on accents and which one the Scottish ladies liked the best. The final two in this survey were Scottish and Lions rugby legend, Gavin Hastings, an Italian chef living in Scotland.....and me.

The Gary Robertson Show – then the mid-morning equivalent of Gerry Ryan meets Pat Kenny – had trawled their contacts book for an Irish journalist and having failed to come up with anyone better, I agreed to go on for the laugh, nursing a hell of a hangover and a voice that sounded like Stephen Hawkin.

Obviously if this was television, the former Scottish full-back would have been home and hosed, and the Italian chef – unless he was a double of the Phantom of the Opera – would have almost certainly come second.

As it turned out however, our Italian friend was the first to be eliminated by the female callers – and in a straight showdown between myself and the legend that is Gavin Hastings....I won.

Perhaps it was that they didn’t think Gavin sounded a lot different to any other well-educated Edinburgh Alaistair or Graeme, but nothing could take from either my surprise or delight.

And fortunately I think Gavin got over it too.

Presidential belt-tighteningmeans Christmas is cancelled

Finally a true reflection of our woeful economic plight – President McAleese announced last week that she won’t be posting any Christmas cards this year.

Oh, she’ll be emailing away to her little heart’s content, alright, but it’s not the same as getting a card from the Aras with Mary McAleese’s signature stamped on it to show you that she’s thinking of you in a special way over the festive season.

Never mind that she didn’t have time to put your name on it or any message of goodwill – the mere fact that she thought enough of you to have her press office stamp her signature onto a blank card was enough to sustain us all through the darkest of winters.

It always struck me as the most idiotic thing – to send someone a Christmas card without putting their name on it. That’s not directed at Mrs McAleese who is understandably far too busy for such minutiae, but at PR and marketing companies or state agencies who waste their money on sending cards that they don’t sign to people who never read them or put them on the mantelpiece.

Personally it wouldn’t bother me if I never received another Christmas card although they do serve a useful purpose if you buy them from a charity like Croí. But if you do go to the bother and expense of sending one to somebody, the least you might do is personalise it.Corporate Christmas cards should be confined to the annals of Celtic Tiger history – just like Range Rovers and second homes – because they are nothing more than an irritant for both the sender and the recipient.

So maybe President McAleese is right after all – she’s saving the state a few bob but she’s also saving herself a whole lot of bother. And we can always print out her email and sellotape it to the notice board anyway.