I HAVE worshipped at the altar of the Goddess Ninkasi since I was old enough to say "a pint of best please" without giggling and letting my pocket money drop with a clatter out of my school peggy purse and on to the floor.

Many times have I lay slumped at the feet of this beloved Sumerian goddess of beer, singing Abba's Dancing Queen and telling her I loved her because "she's me bessht mate".

She was a good old bird was Ninkasi. She always got her round in and was never stingy with the nuts. Although she could turn a bit nasty if the head on her pint of mild was flatter than a whippet breeder's cap.

Now she is flexing her substantial muscles again and is preparing for a comeback, 4,000 years after her last great success when women brewed the beer, ran the taverns and drunkenly gave thanks to the great winged landlady in the sky.

Like a celestial Bet Lynch (yes, I know it's Bet Gilroy, but she will always be Bet "Blonde Bombsite" Lynch to me), Ninkasi is shoving her way back through the swing- door of life to sell us a pint of beer with a world weary smile and bosoms so mountainous they would make Sherpa Tenzing's knees knock.

The Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) is launching an advertising campaign fronted by the alcoholic goddess to make beer more attractive to women. Gone are the manly images of hops and harvesters, replaced by sexy, more womanly images involving a 4,000-year-old deity with a penchant for the odd pint.

Why? Simple: less than a quarter of women have tried real cask ale in a pub because they think it is old-fashioned, un-feminine and fattening.

So CAMRA is wheeling out good old Ninkasi, whose liver must have all the vi-tality of a wrung-out mop head by now, to help turn us on to ten "female-friendly" beers such as Young's Waggle Dance, Beartown Wheat Bear and Hop Back Summer Lightning.

These golden brews, it says, are sweet and fruity enough to appeal to women's sweet and fruity tastes and, if all else fails, pubs are going to bung them in a fancy glass to fool us into thinking they are at the cutting edge of foreign, trendy beverages.

Just how patronising is that? Have the head bods at CAMRA been knocking back a bit too much of their favourite falling-down juice? Or do they really believe that women will be won over by a spoonful of sugar in a pretty, twinkly glass?

Selling certain types of beer as a "woman's drink" is not going to win the industry any new female friends. We live, work and socialise on an equal footing with men, and we have not asked to be pandered to when we pootle off down to the pub.

We know what we like and it would take something a darn sight more sophisticated than a fancy glass to make us dramatically change our drinking habits.

I love beer. My idea of heaven is a cool pint of Black Sheep, a chip buttie and a stack of Sunday papers in my favourite York hostelry. I know all of these are not necessarily good for my health (have you tried lifting all those weekend colour supplements without putting your back out?), but I love them just the same.

But just as I will never be won over by sickly sweet alcopops with daft names, I know women with a passion for sugar in their alcohol and pop art graphics on their bottles are not going to switch allegiances that easily either.

If independent breweries are worried about sales and want to widen their mar-ket, they should follow the example set by York Brewery, which opened its third pub in the city last week. It has not gone down the dated, directionless road of saccharine substance in pretty packaging. Instead it has simply made its pubs welcoming to all.

Of course real-ale outlets are always go-ing to attract the beardy, hairy-bummed beer-bore brigade, but if they have a warm, welcoming atmosphere, a good range of beers, music and food and a friendly, enthusiastic staff willing to let you try a tipple before you buy, they will attract female drinkers too.

If you build a good pub, the women will come - and may just be persuaded to swap their G'n'T for a half of Terrier.

Updated: 12:23 Tuesday, August 13, 2002