Editorial: Old DSK equipped to make ill

I can't help it. I'm drawn to all news of the indomitable Dominique Strauss-Kahn like a moth to a blow-torch.

So this is what it's like at the pinnacle of the top social echelons in Europe, that heartbeat of civilization, I marvel with each new report. Can it really be true that he can't tell - as his lawyer suggests - whether he's having it off with a socialite or a whore when they've got no clothes on? In which case, who is being paid the compliment, and which would you rather be? It's a philosophical French question, a little too deep for we who are less sophisticated.

There is no inoculation against roués, the kind of men who in former times were called rakes, or libertines. When you're young you can't believe they get away with it; they're invariably unattractive to the eye, and probably portly, like him, but nothing stands in their way when they set about the simple quest that dominates their life. Our incredulity is why DSK - as we call him - is eternally newsworthy.

There was an example of the type in Wellington when I was young, a leading figure in the arts. He was balding, short, not handsome, old, and I wondered how he managed to juggle his compliant wife and mistresses.

Then one day, when I was interviewing him, his normally roving eye fell upon me. I'm sure he was just keeping his hand in, in the casual way a musician might tap out fingering sequences on the edge of a table. Whatever. It was remarkable.

I experienced, in an offhand moment on his part, that great gift of all womanizers, full attention. It was like being trapped in the floodlights of a theatre. The little man had a quite unsuspected talent.

Two things baffle me in Strauss-Kahn's case: that his floodlights hit so many French people that he could have seriously have had a run at the presidency, and that he is still married to a universally admired, incredibly wealthy woman who thinks none of his antics matter.-

What got me this week was how Strauss-Kahn described women to his friends, when arranging assignations, as "luggage" or "equipment". Women among themselves talk about trophy wives and girlfriends being handbags, but this was a whole new spin on the concept.

A handbag, after all, can be many things: pretty; coquettish, trivial, elegant. But luggage?

It weighs so much more, and is so drearily functional. Rather than being worn on the arm, like a handbag, as a decorative accessory, luggage is heavy, and must be dragged about. Its sole reason for existing is that it can be filled with things.

I needn't labour the metaphor further.

As for equipment, that is the inanimate stuff a person needs to pursue a hobby, perhaps, or a professional task - like dentists having drills, or chimney sweeps their long brooms. I'll leave those metaphors alone as well.

The crucial point in both descriptors is that women are objects rather than people, equipment useful for a simple task, something you have to haul about-.

Strauss-Kahn has reportedly admitted, when this wording became public, to using inappropriate language. I'd call it more honest than inappropriate. It showed his gut-level contempt for the women he uses, expressed with the chilly ring of truth. What a blast from the past. The world was once like this, no questions asked.

Women need to know that when such dinosaurs let their glad eye rest on you, and you gasp inwardly, you should head for the hills. You won't enjoy the next bit.