"Even when I was in labour I had my full face on, hair straightened and perfect nails. I'm so proud of that," she boasts.
Boasts? Really, it's like the 20th century didn't happen. Nicola then goes on to bemoan the state of modern womanhood: "Letting yourself go is a sign of a lazy slob who doesn't care about herself or her man. No wonder one in three marriages fail."
Not content with pinning increasing divorce rates on women getting ideas above their station and 'letting themselves go', Nicola then moves on to the subject of parenthood:"I had my boobs increased from a 32C to a 32G so I didn't feed my baby because they'd go saggy and lose their sexiness. I wanted to keep my boobs for my boyfriend, know what I mean?"
Nicola later moves on to her frankly retarded views on the domestic division of labour:
The couple's flashy Bucks home may look perfect, but that's no thanks to Nicola - she never lifts a perfectly-manicured finger round the house. She refuses to change a lightbulb and proudly says she has never done so in her life. "That's Tommy's job," she sniffs. "Me? Use a screwdriver? With these nails? No way."
Given the choice of sitting in the dark or flicking a switch on if the fuses went in the house, Nicola curls a glossy lip at the thought of doing anything for herself. "I'd rather sit in the dark - or go to a neighbour for help," she says... Relinquishing the right to choose her own food, she even lets Tommy order for her in restaurants. She adds: "If my glass was empty and I wanted another one, I wouldn't ask the waiter. I'd say to Tommy, 'Babe? Catch someone's eye, please,' and he'd do it for me. It's not for me to do a job like that."
Her motivation, it seems, is that her hubby keeps her in designer handbags and shoes: "her pampered tootsies only feel comfortable in the £300 Gina shoes Tommy buys her to add to the 30 pairs already lined up in her walk-in wardrobe".
Which raises a rather difficult point - if, as appears to be the case here, a woman's primary motivation is money, or at least luxury goods, just where do you draw the line between trophy wife and prostitute? (WAG or slag, you could say...).
In 1792, Mary Wollstonecraft told us that women, "confined in cages like the feathered race...have nothing to do but to plume themselves, and stalk with mock majesty from perch to perch". We've moved on a lot since then, but Nicola isn't deterred by 216 years of feminist progress:
She exfoliates her entire body and shaves her upper and lower legs, underarms and bikini line every day. The very thought of a missing out on her daily regime shocks Nicola to the very core of her fake-tanned body. She exclaims: "Let my minnie grow a millimetre too long? Never!"
Finally, young Nicola tells us the secret of her happy marriage:
"I hate those girls that let themselves go, let their boyfriends see them without make-up and don't put an effort in for their men. It's laziness to look so ugly. I have higher standards, and that's one reason why Tommy loves me."
