The autumn TV schedules are upon us, and this year you can barely move for the amount of sex on screen.

Indeed, our airwaves are so blue it’s a moot point as to whether the TV belongs in the living room or the bedroom.

If it’s not the Home Secretary in the guise of Keeley Hawes undressing while her (very) close protection officer looks on agog in Bodyguard, it’s a middle-aged wife romping with a hunky silver fox policeman from her hydrotherapy class in Wanderlust.

Wanderlust, which began last night, is a very adult drama. Not just because of the amount of X-rated activity on screen, but also in terms of its main themes.

The autumn TV schedules are upon us, and this year you can barely move for the amount of sex on screen. If it’s not the Home Secretary undressing while her (very) close protection officer looks on agog in Bodyguard, it's the middle-aged wife in Wanderlust

Unlike Bodyguard — which at heart is a crude action thriller, heavy on explosions and intrigue — it is a more nuanced observation of human adult behaviour.

But there is one area where these shows do find common ground — and no, it’s not just the bedsprings. They both have strong, single-minded and — crucially — attractive middle-aged career women as central characters. What’s more, they’re women who unashamedly enjoy sexual gratification.

When it comes to my age group (50-ish), TV has always reflected a certain bias. We can be funny, tragic, embarrassing, self-deprecating, blousey, vain, absurd, clever, mad. But sexy? Bar a few exceptions, never.

Men, of course, can be seducers at any age, and the objects of their attention range from trembling waifs, helpless in the face of irresistible manliness (Poldark et al) to hormone-crazed bunny boilers (Doctor Foster).

Bodyguard and Wanderlust subvert these notions. They put women into roles traditionally played by men — and shift the focus onto this most neglected section of humanity.

Hitherto, older women have been largely invisible to the wider cultural world. But now more of us are finally in real positions of influence and power, our emotions and opinions are suddenly being taken seriously.

It’s not just on TV; it’s in books, theatre and films. It’s in the fashion and cosmetic industries, for so long obsessed with youth.

It’s crept up everywhere, from politics to business. This feminism by stealth — changing the culture slowly from within until, lo and behold, we’re suddenly calling the shots — may be anathema to the younger generation, who seem to prefer loud but empty gestures to hard graft.

Bodyguard and Wanderlust, pictured, subvert these notions. They put women into roles traditionally played by men — and shift the focus onto this most neglected section of humanity

But in practice it has far more influence than any noisy nipple-exposing protest. And now we are starting to see the benefits.

It’s why these two TV dramas have re-written perceptions of what it means to be an older woman in the 21st century.

And while it may make some viewers uncomfortable, the way these two fictional female characters behave is actually fairly representative of the behaviour of most mature women I know.

Women who have raised children, pursued careers — and don’t want to spend the rest of their lives sorting washing. Who have ambition, desires — and are determined to strive for what they want.

Today’s woman of a certain age is not only smarter, more financially independent and better groomed than ever before. She’s also wiser, funnier and — unlike today’s generation of anxiety stricken, politically correct #MeToo bores — a damn sight more fun to spend an evening with.

Of course, I’m not suggesting we should all indulge in affairs or head for the hills with the nearest law enforcement officer. Far from it. Let’s not confuse a saucy bit of TV drama with real life.

Just that it’s very pleasing after all this time finally to see older women being portrayed as something more than just a sideshow.

You know that drunk at every party who simply will not accept that, while it has been a fun night, it’s over now and it’s time for everyone to go home? Well, that unwelcome guest is Simon Cowell and that party is The X Factor. Enough.

Less of the 'hussy' please, Posh

I won’t pretend to fathom the complexities of Victoria Beckham’s marriage — nor, to be quite honest, do I much care. But one thing that does baffle and preoccupy me is why she has decided to illustrate her marital bliss in the latest edition of Vogue by posing in a catsuit with one leg raised in what in the ballet world is known, for obvious reasons, as a ‘hussy extension’.

She’s not the only one. Caroline Flack was photographed doing the same in March of this year, and Kate Beckinsale and Kourtney Kardashian have also been snapped doing it. But Mrs Beckham has made it her signature, which begs the question: what does it mean?

Some kind of bizarre mating call for David? Showing off how much yoga she does?

Either way, I do wish she would stop it.

One thing that does baffle and preoccupy me is why Victoria has decided to illustrate her marital bliss in the latest edition of Vogue by posing in a catsuit with one leg raised in what in the ballet world is known, for obvious reasons, as a ‘hussy extension’

Sentiments are running high in Scotland after a haggis maker named his the ‘Great British Haggis’ and sold it in a red, white and blue box. But imagine how the rest of us Brits feel — the last thing our poor culinary reputation needs is to add a sheep’s stomach stuffed with oatmeal and offal to the rap sheet.

Arrest the man-haters

The idea of making misogyny a hate crime is utterly ridiculous. As if the police and courts haven’t got enough on their plates.

But if Parliament does vote in favour today — Labour MP Stella Creasy has put forward an amendment to the Voyeurism Bill that would make the hatred of women an aggravating factor in ‘upskirting’ cases — then I shall start my own campaign: to make man-hating (or misandry) a hate crime.

Quite where that would leave those women who regularly demean and ridicule men is anyone’s guess. But that’s the thing about equality, ladies: it works both ways.

Is the woman in your life unusually chipper this week? If so, I have an inkling why. The school holidays are finally over.

Whisper it, but is there any happier time of year? That moment when, after what feels like about 27 years of cooking, cleaning, tidying and Hoovering Rice Krispies off the dog, you finally drop the children off at the school gates, a tear in your eye and a secret song in your heart?

Love them to bits, of course. But let’s not kid ourselves: for most mums September is the real holiday. One of my friends has even booked herself into a Swiss clinic (a bit extreme: her kids aren’t that ghastly).

Me, I’m looking forward to finally getting my momstache waxed. As, I suspect, is the rest of my family.

I'm worried about lonely Lily

In the past, I may have been a little hard on Lily Allen — not out of any desire to be cruel, but just because I don’t think this rather talented singer/songwriter does herself any favours by engaging with half-baked political crusades. But I’m actually starting to get quite worried about her now. The 33-year-old’s latest revelations — that she slept with female escorts on tour because she was ‘lost and lonely and looking for something’ — are heart-breaking. Either that, or she’s desperate to sell her autobiography, which is out this month.

In the past, I may have been a little hard on Lily Allen — not out of any desire to be cruel, but just because I don’t think this rather talented singer/songwriter does herself any favours by engaging with half-baked political crusades

Evans' mountain of cash

Chris Evans is leaving Radio 2 to return to ‘his spiritual home’, Virgin. He gave his nine million breakfast show listeners some guff about climbing mountains by way of explanation, but in reality we all know why he’s gone: money.

It seems £1.6 million a year to chat and play records is not enough for Evans, who can expect to earn around £2 million in his new role at Virgin.

No doubt executives at the BBC will be weeping into their flat whites at the news, convinced as many are that new transparency rules on equal pay will lead to a loss of more big names.

But if you ask me, finally getting shot of someone like Evans, who is good but not £1.6 million-a-year-good, is a blessing in disguise.

The BBC should be a breeding ground for new talent, not a cash cow for existing stars and their agents.

His departure will open up the field and save Auntie a packet. Plus, I can finally start listening to Radio 2 again.

In the interests of gender fairness, we are told, the Royal Academy’s new show, the Renaissance Nude, will ensure an equal split of naked men and women. Surely this is missing the point: the majority of the artists in the show — which includes Titian (his Venus is pictured), Raphael and Michelangelo — were men. But then, the virtue-signalling RA will no doubt figure out a way of proving some of those Old Masters were really Mistresses.