We may start to learn to flirt young but, happily, rather than atrophy, a woman's skills evolve entirely age-appropriately over time, and can become coolly gender-neutral, too.
For the time-poor, it pays to be empathy-rich - and flirting to make an instant connection marks out the emotionally intelligent among us. Which is why I am a big fan of non-sexual "empathy-flirting" with other women. It says "I hear you! We share a language, and we are awesome."
Even when our efforts at flirting are met with varying degrees of success, we are all capable of it: to my mind, every woman between the ages of 17 and 70 works her way through what I call the "Seven Ages of Flirting" - whether intentionally or inadvertently.
Throughout the teenage years, flirting is avoiding eye contact. Or indeed any hint of being remotely interested in a man whatsoever. These days, apparently, it involves staring at your phone and deploying heartfelt emojis via Snapchat/Instagram.
The exception in my day came if there was a disinhibiting lubricant to hand - most likely a Pernod and Black - in which case, woo-hoo, look out boys!
However, that was also the era when I avoided eye contact with boys while simultaneously attempting to be funny. I recall one alcohol-fuelled evening back at His Place. As my new friend uncorked the wine, I glanced around and said: "Nice flat... where's the rest of it?" The poor man's confused expression told me: a) he wasn't looking for a woman who made jokes about the size of anything he owned, and b) the sarcasm-as-flirtation, romcom-one-liner approach only works if you're actually Jennifer Aniston, and I bet even she doesn't do it in real life.
By the time a smart woman hits her thirties, it's the lucky tradesmen who are on the receiving end of the casually flirty arm taps and plumbing-related chatter. Most women recognise that flirting with a tradesman is simply the most efficient way to get done whatever it is she doesn't want to do/can't actually do herself.
It's just common sense: supplying a man-with-tools with endless tea and smiles strategically oils the wheels of the domestic engine. Just save your Diana-eyes routine for "date nights", when they can be put to good disguising either your exhaustion or your boredom.
The next stage - peri-menopausal flirting - is when we reach our peak flirting powers. At 40-plus, we take our inspiration from Claire Underwood, the the cool and classy First Lady of House of Cards, played by Robin Wright - all secret smiles, Louboutins and intense sexual power.
This is also known as the Taking Care of Business school of flirting. For example, I doubt Susanna Reid fancied David Cameron one iota - but as a stylish brunette in her early forties, she'll have known that she's sufficiently Sam-Cam-alike to be just the PM's type.
I am currently in my Fifth Age of Flirting and am, miraculously, happily coupled-up. Neither of us can recall quite how it happened, as he is a rubbish flirt, too, but we must have done something right.
From here on in, there is nothing left to prove, flirt-wise, yet everything still to play for. One's sixties are the golden years; here, Dame Helen Mirren - she who can tackle noisy drummers half her age and still look great in a bikini - is almost certainly your inspiration.
For the 70-pluses, these are the Dame Judi years. Her unexpected late-life romance with conservationist David Mills is proof that the power of a good flirt doesn't have to dim with age.
