I DON'T want to offend you, or put you off your dinner, but is there ever a right place to cut your toenails?

It's just that, when I was growing up, our family was quite free and easy on the subject. We didn't exactly trim them in front of dinner guests, but looking after them wasn't secret.

It was only much later, when getting used to living with the Other Half, in fact, that I discovered I was uncouth, and that toenails should be trimmed as if by magic, without anyone else being aware of the process.

I still find it a bit odd that he is so repelled by the notion of a pedicure. It's not as if I have ugly, misshapen or even smelly feet. They're quite nice, though I say so myself.

Still, I suppose there are hazards involved. You've only got to think of that terrible scene when they hand around the sweeties in Michael Palin's film, A Private Function, to know that chiropodists and chocolates don't mix.

What I am trying to get around to is, how difficult it is to strike that balance of being relaxed with one's partner without, frankly, letting oneself go.

When love is young, you're absolutely on your best behaviour.

For example, a colleague at work was talking the other day about a date with a new chap. They went walking, in spite of the fact that it was November and her footwear was not quite the thing for a yomp through a muddy field.

Ah, memories. What fun it was when I myself went walking for the first time with the Other Half. We marched up and down a one-in-four country lane paved with mud, cow pats and leaf mulch. The northern gale was so strong that it made my teeth ache, my hair was lashing my face like a cat-o-nine-tails, and my feet were being systematically shredded by my new walking boots. Did he know anything about all this? Absolutely not, mainly because he'd told me he had packed in some previous squeeze after going walkies with her on the exact same path. She'd turned up in red stilettos, and he just knew it wasn't going to work.

Fast forward a decade or so, and things are now much more relaxed. I'll feel able to tell him in quite a frank manner if I don't feel up to a 25-mile route march, and to let him know if my feet are getting blisters.

There are limits, though. Another colleague was gaily recounting how she tried out something called a "face bra" in front of her husband. It's some sort of wrap which you bind around your head, that's meant to give you a bit of a facial lift. She tried this thing on while she and hubby were both at home watching the telly together. She said she kept seeing him out of the corner of her eye, looking at her strangely. I bet he was I might be a bit laissez-faire about toenails, but in my opinion, lotions, potions and miracle creams should all be applied in private. In fact, bathroom doors should stay shut at all times.

And gentlemen, preserving that air of mystery is not a one-way street. There are aspects of your constitution and habits that are really best kept to yourselves. You know what I mean, and if you are in any doubt don't do it.