Thirty-five years later, I’m tired of the same old. Another day, another stranger who thinks they were entitled to critique my appearance. I’m on telly for a few minutes, speaking about the misuse Katie Price gets, and there it is – “ping…ping…ping…ping,” drives my mobile as my inbox fills with hate, nearly always with a nasty sexual edge. It’s mine, you see. They are too big or too little. Emily...