H&M unisex dressing rooms mean 12-year-old girls can rub shoulders with 55-year-old guys

ANOTHER week, another place of H&M bashing.

Except, for once, it’s not royal deserters Harry and Meghan who shot themselves in the (non-binary) foot.

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No, step in front of the second largest fashion retailer in the world that makes all fitting rooms gender neutral.

To be “inclusive” and create “rooms that fit everyone,” H&M’s new rooms have only one curtain for privacy and an 18-inch gap between the floor and the curtain.

There’s a good chance a 12-year-old girl on the verge of womanhood could anxiously rub shoulders with a hairy 55-year-old guy.

Or a pregnant woman awkwardly trying on a maternity dress next to a bearded six-foot-tall rugby player.

Of course, any normal, decent 55-year-old guy – which most are – is likely to be just as appalled by the current situation as the impressionable teenager.

But, and there is always a but.

In an attempt to protect a minority’s “right” to self-expression, H&M – and the stores that will inevitably follow suit – leave young girls and women potentially vulnerable to harm.

As one commenter on Twitter noted, “When companies allow unhindered access to young/single women, it doesn’t matter how well we teach our young people boundaries, it only takes a few seconds for a sexual assault to take place. . . ”

It may sound extreme, but just look at recent examples of peepers.

In April, a former Derbyshire Police community support officer, James Land, admitted to filming children naked in the changing rooms of a swimming pool.

And in February, Swansea Crown Court heard that a moron named Paul Griffiths had secretly filmed a young girl undressing in the changing rooms of a holiday park swimming pool – a video later discovered by his poor wife.

I could go on.

Voyeurs have been around since the beginning of time, only now do they have access to smartphones and body cams to record all their dirty sick desires with a sweaty push of a button.

To reiterate, the overwhelming majority of men are just as appalled by these perverts as any woman.

But by facilitating crime, H&M increases the likelihood that it will happen.

Primark is already gender neutral, and three months ago Monsoon had to apologize after a non-binary shopper buying a prom dress was asked to exit a unisex fitting room.

voyeurs

In 2017, Topshop announced that it would also make all fitting rooms “inclusive”. Three years later, Topshop went bankrupt.

Go woke, go broke.

Unfortunately, this madness doesn’t seem to be abating.

Last month BBC staff were told there were 150 different genders, while there are now around 713 recognized sexualities.

Soon shops will have no room for clothes, only endless fitting rooms and a small, pathetic clothes rail.

Perhaps the greatest irony of H&M’s recent announcement – which apparently sparked massive backlash – is that the multinational retailer is a fast fashion purveyor.

The company previously promised to pay 850,000 workers a living wage by 2018, a promise it spectacularly failed to deliver, according to a 2019 report

With a turnover of £21 billion, it makes cheap, quick and expendable clothes – those sewn together by people who can’t afford to buy them.

Maybe H&M should put its own house in order before it starts dictating the rest of us.

VAR, goal-line technology and prozone are all well and good.

But it’s oddly refreshing to see England soccer coach Sarina Wiegman getting back to basics – and resolutely clutching her dog-eared notepad and pen during Lionesses games.

Luckily some things will never change.

Forget size zero – runway model Jill is my size hero

AT LAST! The last taboo of the notoriously cutthroat world of fashion has been broken. . . Step forward, Jill Kortleve.

While magazines, catwalks and social media have always loved puny size zeros, they’ve also, in recent years, had the odd, headline-grabbing “Bo-Po” (Body Positivity) star — ie. a size 22 fat.

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Anything but a real, normal-sized woman with a bit of cellulite.

However, last week the Dutch supermodel wore Chanel’s coveted wedding dress in Paris and, shock horror, she’s a healthy size 12.

She’s also not 7 feet tall or ripped like a Victoria’s Secret model.

More Jills please.

Let them eat confit

LITTLE demonstrates the gap between rich and poor more clearly.

Spam sales are rising in the US in the wake of the cost-of-living crisis, but so is sausage – as the already rich are getting richer.

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To paraphrase Marie Antionette, make her eat confit.

master the cost crisis

FIRST out of the blocks, Rishi Sunak came out with a suspiciously slick – and fast – “vote me” video.

Hot on his heels was Penny Mourdant with her Little Britainesque promise to make the country great again.

Now Liz Truss and Nadhim Zaharwi huff and puff along the rails in this increasingly crowded field of wannabe Tory leaders.

It’s ugly, unedifying stuff.

Candidates haggling for votes behind the scenes, more interested in smearing their rivals than restoring conservatism.

Has British politics ever been more Machiavellian?

After two years of obfuscation, lies, bluffing and gossip from Boris, surely all we all want is a direct leader – ideally one with some answers. No more questions.

Forget the talk about corporate taxes, Social Security and transgender issues, the first man or woman to come up with a viable living expense plan has my vote.

Keep students active

DEBATE over whether schools should cancel sports day amid burgeoning heatwave.

Nanny-state guys obviously think it’s too sunny for the egg-and-spoon race.

Nonsense.

For millions of children, Sports Day is the highlight of the school year. Sometimes only light.

It gives those who may not be academically or musically blessed a chance to shine.

And at the height of a crippling obesity epidemic, the last thing we should do is discourage children from being active.

Also, if teens can’t take sunburn, how are they going to deal with anything in adult life?

Tennis double fault

Well, then everything went like clockwork.

Moscow-born, Russian-flag-wearing Elena Rybakina won her first Wimbledon title, while the next day a Serb dodging a jab snatched his seventh.

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In a kind of hard-hitting Sophie’s Choice for the poor All England Club,

Novak Djokovic’s defeated opponent was, of course, a grumpy, snotty-lipped toddler who also faces charges of domestic violence.

A member of the IS will probably hold the Venus rosewater bowl in their hands in 2023.

Seamless.

I’m stupid on my feet

ANDREW RIDGELEY has found love again and is apparently dating socialite Amanda Cronin.

Trigger.

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Quite possibly THE scariest moment of my career – of which there have been many, MANY – was the Wham! Star.

I was at the (s)wanky London private club The Groucho when a woman tapped me on the shoulder and casually asked me to “dance with her mate”.

Within seconds, Club Tropicana’s opening songs were playing and I was being dragged across the dance floor by a tall, balding older guy: Andrew.

I literally don’t dance and I can’t.

Rhythm has bypassed every single member of my family. It’s genetic.
I told him that too.

“Of course you can dance, absolutely anyone can,” cooed Andrew.

“It’s all in the hips,” he added.

For 20 painful seconds, he unsuccessfully dragged my frozen corpse around.

“God, you really can’t dance, can you?” he hissed and stalked off.

At least I’ve proved a point.