WOMEN and men would prefer a compliment over good weather, according to a banal survey intended to publicise a cash-back facility.

I won’t bore you with the details, but it did inspire a conversation about compliments, or the lack of them, at Telegraph Towers.

It is my belief that it takes a confident and self-assured woman to give another female a compliment and mean it. And I’d imagine it would be the same for blokes - “those skinny jeans don’t emphasise your belly at all, mate,” or perhaps not.

As much as a compliment may lighten up our day, they tend to be few and far between. Sad as it is, we Brits seem to have lost the custom of saying nice things to each other. The back-handed compliment, however, appears to be alive and cutting.

I will never forget the day I first met my future mother-in-law. She said: “My, you’re so much prettier than your photographs.” She added insult to injury when she bought me a Christmas jumper in size XL. The relationship never really recovered.

A colleague was similarly complimented recently by an old timer who said of her newspaper by-line picture: “ That’s a very young-looking photo. It makes you look attractive.”

And our very own female sports journalist was once praised by a man on one of her football reports - “If I didn’t know better, I’d never guess you were a girl.” Wehey! And guess what? She also knows the offside rule and manages to restrain herself from commenting on Danny Ings’ preferred cologne and brand of boxers.

So why is it so hard to say something simple and nice, like “you’re a great writer” or “you’re attractive”? One colleague reckoned if he went around complimenting women they’d think he was after something. Well, that’s true to a point. But then men aren’t very subtle about these things. “That’s a nice dress” usually means it shows a lot of leg or cleavage or both - it’s why they never notice when you’ve had your hair done because your head is nowhere near your lady lumps. When I ask my partner if my bum looks big, he replies: “ Yes, colossal and glorious. I worship in its shadow.” It shuts me up every time.

To be honest, if a man (or woman for that matter) came up to me in the street and said I was attractive, I’d expect mental health nurses to be pursuing him. And there’s the rub. We no longer give compliments because in our PC world, we are terrified of them being misinterpreted.

We need to get back into the habit of offering compliments and accepting them graciously. And practice makes perfect. So turn to the nearest person and say something kind. And if it goes wrong, send complaints to The Editor, The Lancashire Telegraph c/o ...