Alex Collier asks:

Excuse me, but I don’t read Weekend for clever-clever interviews with politicians and that. Where’s the in-depth feature on Lady Gaga or Miley Cyrus?

Alex didn’t miss these in-depth features – there simply weren’t any last week, and he may have been disappointed by this week’s haul as well. The Weekend magazine covers a wide range of subjects, and although celebrity features are frequent, they’re aren’t guaranteed to appear in any given issue.

But there’s no need to fret! If Alex wants certain access to features on modern-day musicians and actors, there are dedicated periodicals that deal with this subject. Or if Lady Gaga and Miley Cyrus are his particular interests, he might enjoy Caitlin Moran’s Gaga profile in the Times, or the Observer’s analysis of Cyrus’s transition from child star to adult singer.

Niall O’Brien asks:

The writer of the 4 December Experience worked in an animal testing lab, yet says she told people she was an “administrator”. She left that job and now works in “administration”. Does that mean she really works in an abattoir now?

Not necessarily. Niall’s question rests on a logical fallacy known as “affirming the consequent”. Affirming the consequent is like hearing the statement “cats have tails”, then looking at something with a tail and concluding that it must be a cat. Of course, it might be a cat – but it might also be a cow, a mouse, an elephant, even a tailcoat.

So the writer might have claimed to be “in administration” because she works in an abbatoir, certainly! However, it’s just as possible that she works in a different field that she wishes to keep secret (for example, spying), or that she does work in administration as suggested.

Ian West asks:

Why, week after week, are the only paints to grace the walls in the Space section Farrow & Ball and, very occasionally, Fired Earth?

It may be partly confirmation bias – that is, it’s possible that Ian believes that Farrow & Ball paint is disproportionately represented in the magazine, and therefore notices it whenever it appears, while other paints pass him by. In the last month, the Weekend has featured only one Farrow & Ball paint (Black Blue), along with three from Fired Earth (Fountains Blue, Tyrian Rose, Amethyst), and one from Barbara Hulanicki (Vampire), so it’s not quite the all-Farrow-&-Ball-all-the-time trend that Ian describes.

However, it’s certainly true that Fired Earth and Farrow & Ball come up very frequently as paint providers! This may be because the rooms in Space are set up by designers, and the companies in question are the country’s largest manufacturers of “designer paint”.

Emma Pickard asks:

Is it just me, or do others get a warm feeling inside when a Blind Date goes “right”? You don’t need to read between the lines on 4 December. They’ve even made plans. Lovely!

It’s not just Emma: the Blind Date can provoke strong feelings. Over the course of 2010, it’s been discussed on the letters page twenty times, more often than any other feature. At least five of those twenty letters expressed pleasure at a date that went well, or sadness at a date that didn’t. This makes Emma’s warm feeling the second-most widely expressed sentiment of the letters page for 2010, beaten only by mild dismay at Alexis Petridis’ clothes.

As a popular topic of discussion, it’s closely followed by the fact that men often receive lower Blind Date scores than women (four letters), and the perceived failings of of individual Blind Daters (three letters).

Chris Johnson asks:

I don’t mind Chiles being ugly, but does he have to be foul-mouthed too?

He certainly doesn’t! Over the past decade Chiles has appeared frequently on live radio and television shows where swearing is forbidden. He’s therefore extremely practiced at restraining his language.

Chris’s confusion may come from the fact that Chiles swore extensively in last week’s interview – but the evidence of his live broadcast work makes it clear that this was from choice, not necessity.

Conor Whitworth asks:

It’s hard to feel sympathy for Chiles and Bleakley. Not content with a BBC wage of some £500,000, they go to ITV for a reported £4-£5m. My partner has just lost her job, my mother-in-law is in care and my son’s school is threatened with closure. Is that comparable with the “nightmare” Bleakley finds herself in?

It’s possible to compare the two situations, so they’re certainly comparable in that sense. However, Conor may be using a different sense of the word, and asking whether the two situations are similar, either in nature or degree – to which the answer is that they are dissimilar in many ways. Indeed, the difficulties Conor is experiencing sound like they may well be more severe than Bleakley’s.

Mike Hine asks:

It was high time other species were represented in fashion shoots, but isn’t it irresponsible to use as a model a dog so slim and gorgeous that it presents another unachievable ideal?

Mike’s concern is admirable, but he needn’t worry. It’s true that dogs can learn to recognise pictures of other dogs, as University of Vienna researchers have shown (in “Visual Categorization of Natural Stimuli by Domestic Dogs”, a fascinating read for anyone who shares Mike’s misgivings).

However, the Weekend is aimed at a primarily human readership, and few dogs will have seen the picture. Fewer still will have recognised it, as the dog in question was not a primary focus of the picture, and was largely covered by a stylish jumper! Furthermore, there’s no evidence that dogs are troubled by unrealistic beauty ideals. Any dogs who did see the picture (perhaps while perched on a loving owner’s lap, or while rummaging through torn paper scraps in their basket) are unlikely to have been affected by it.

Julian Smith asks:

Can you print this letter so that Holly Gramazio (Your Questions Answered) has some material for next week?

It seems that they can print the letter – but not for the specific reason that Julian suggests. Since several other rhetorical questions appeared this week, the editors must have had a motivation for including this particular example that was distinct from simply providing “Their Questions Answered” with material.

Julian’s solicitude is, however, very much appreciated! All the same, we woudn’t want him to fret unnecessarily. If he’s troubled in future by the possibility that we may be left without questions to answer, he may find it comforting to reflect on the fact that every Weekend letters page for the past year has included at least one rhetorical question.

Marina Birkelbach asks:

How many readers are interested in the different areas, schools, etc, of New York? Maybe Tom Dyckhoff would like to move there?

With regards to Marina’s first question, it’s hard to be sure! But a surprising number of UK residents do move to New York – so many that NYC estimates its UK-born population at 30,236. Compare this to other destinations covered by “Let’s Move To” in recent months: Ilkley, West Yorkshire, say, with fewer than 14,000 residents; or Clun, with 624.

In fact, if you rank the latest ten “Let’s Move To” destinations by number of British residents, New York is beaten only by Poole and Ealing! That doesn’t quite tell us how often British residents (and newspaper-readers) move there, but it does suggest that a fair few will be interested in the character and amenities of its different areas.

With regard to Marina’s second question, perhaps he would. New York is considered by many to be an excellent place to live, and Dyckhoff certainly seems to appreciate the amusing names of its neighbourhoods.

Alex Irvine asks:

Why get worked up about straight men playing gay men in films? The reverse has been happening for donkey’s years.

The letter Alex refers to here is itself a response to an Antony Hegarty interview. In this interview, Hegarty says that he is “sick of how the movie industry has interesting gay or transgendered people played by heterosexuals”, and how it “feels like another kind of minstrel show” to him.

The idea that it’s probematic for straight men to play gay male parts is based, in many cases, on this feeling: that straight actors often don the stereotypical trappings of gayness for a performance which tends towards caricature.

Critics of such casting sometimes feel, additionally, that casting straight actors in gay roles will limit the number of interesting roles available to gay actors.

Pam Lunn asks:

Why does an independent professional woman think that a man she has only just met should pay for her cab home?

It’s not just any “man she has only just met”. Rather, it’s a man with whom she’s just been on a date, which makes a big difference! In heterosexual dating situations, there is frequently an assumption that the man will pay for the first date – and in some circles this extends to a cab-ride home. It’s an unorthodox position, perhaps especially among Guardian readers, but it’s not unique.

Jimbo Coyle asks:

Who is Chris Bourke speaking for with his, “We thought we were buying the Guardian, not Heat”? Not me. I thoroughly enjoyed the Cheryl Cole and Take That articles both.

In past letters to the Weekend, the word “we” has most often referred to UK society at large, or even human inhabitants of the world. A little less often, it has referred to Guardian readers; very occasionally, to other specific groups (such as nudists, dentists, or children of the 1990s).

In this case, Bourke’s letter explicitly limits “we” to people who bought the Guardian and did so knowingly; it therefore excludes all non-readers, along with anyone who found their copy of the paper on the bus, say, or mistook it for the Telegraph at the newsagent.

Stephanie O’Brien asks:

Was the Justin Bieber interview (Are You A Belieber?, 13 November) a deliberate attempt to induce apoplexy in recent po-faced correspondents? Love it, but how will you top it?

It’s true that some readers were dismayed to find celebrity features in the Weekend, but the Bieber piece is unlikely to have been a specific response to their letters. Ronson interviewed Bieber in San Jose, “in the midst of an 85-date tour” – which places the date at around 28 October, when Bieber played the San Jose HP Pavilion. The Cheryl Cole article – the first to prompt the “po-faced” letters that Stephanie mentions – was published on 23 October. To respond with a vindictive Bieber interview, the magazine would have had only five days to receive the annoyed letters, decide on a suitable vengeance, secure an interview with Bieber, and dispatch Ronson to meet him. Still, it’s not impossible!

Unlike topping the interview, which pretty much is impossible to do with a single article.

Ben Johncock asks:

Several smug letters about doing more interesting things than being on Twitter. Like writing to magazines, then?

The letter-writers Ben mentions do seem to think that writing to a magazine is a better bet than tweeting, but they list other example activities as well, from walking and gardening to painting and cleaning the house.

Jane Brueseke asks:

In response to Lucy Mangan’s let’s riot column: happy now?

We can’t be sure about Mangan, but many approving non-rioters found the Millbank riot satisfying. Observers who were cheered by it took heart from the demonstration that people cared so intently about the cuts, and were willing to take action.

Stef Stewart-Hodges asks:

To respond to Darren Evans, Graham and I met a year ago on Blind Date. This morning, while seeing me off to work with a lovely packed lunch, he burped, scratched his groin and told me he loves me. Does this count as a “long-term relationship”?

It depends who you ask! As we found out last week, many people only consider a relationship to be “long-term” after two or three years. But it’s certainly true that Graham and Stef’s relationship may turn out to be long-term, even if we can’t call it that with certainty just yet!

Claire Jackson asks:

If Tim Dowling lives so close to Westfield, why not walk?

It’s possible to live “close” to somewhere in driving terms, but still be far enough away that walking is significantly less convenient.

Dowling has grappled with the drive or walk question in a past column, in which he implies that he lives a five to ten minute drive from Westfield, on a good day. A five minute drive can easily be a half-hour walk, and the choice between the two isn’t always clear!

Sam White asks:

Is it just me who has no recall of the content of articles mentioned a week later on the letters page?

Definitely not! Anyone who wants to understand the Letters page fully should keep the previous week’s issue at hand for reference. In fact, sometimes it’s necessary to dig even further! Letters that address an editorial policy rather than a specific article can delve back weeks or even months.

Of course, most readers don’t mind whether they can quite recall what the letters are referring to. You’d have to be pretty obsessive to actually search out past articles and compare them to other people’s throwaway comments.

Stuart Taylor asks:

Is it a requirement for guys to be well-endowed to be eligible to join the young naturist movement? I felt positively inadequate seeing the boys in the Laura Pannack feature.

No, definitely not! Organisations like British Naturism do insist that their members “present naturism creditably”, but it’s clear that they mean this in a behavioural rather than a genital sense. In fact, many naturist forums go out of their way to reassure men with unusually large or small penises that they will be welcome.

That said, the young men portrayed in Pannack’s photographs do have penile lengths of around 6 to 7% of their body height. Compare this to the average British penis, which is about 5% the height of the average British young man – so the naturists are indeed on the large side!

Perhaps this isn’t surprising: current British culture tends to praise the large penis at the expense of the small.  Smaller-penised men might therefore be more nervous about attending naturist resorts in the first place, despite the reassurances. Once there, they might reasonably be less willing to show themselves naked in the harsh light of a national newspaper.

Ida Alwin asks:

Am I the only one who has noticed that people are less and less willing to commit to any kind of written communication that’s longer than the few words it takes to tweet or update a Facebook status?

Not at all – in this respect, Ida is one of many! Even the people who
use Twitter sometimes notice that they’re less willing to write at
length; a search for “think in 140 character” will usually bring up a
few recent tweets on the subject.

Indeed, it’s commonly held that online readers and writers prefer a
shorter length (in this respect, Ida’s area of enquiry is directly
opposed to Stuart’s, above). Like most preferences, however, this is
far from universal. Those who sympathise with Ida might try to take
comfort in the increasing length of bestseller fiction, the number of
journalists who post expanded versions of their articles online, and
the existence of Facebook groups campaigning for longer status
updates.

Darren Evans asks:

Have any of your blind dates led to a long-term relationship?

Well, it depends on how you count. We took a quick poll  of passers-by, who suggested that a “long-term relationship” is one that has endured for at least a few years. The wider world seems to agree: Google has only ten results for been in a long-term relationship for two years , as opposed to 4000 or so from equivalent searches for three years or four years.

This is important, because the first Blind Date feature in the Weekend wasn’t until 31 January 2009; that’s less than 22 months ago! By our reckoning, then, the answer to Darren’s question is “no” – because there simply hasn’t been time for it to become anything else.

Ray Crozier asks:

The “mysterious” shortage of good places to eat in Oxford wouldn’t have anything to do with the reputation of the Bullingdon Club, would it?

It’s possible, but fairly unlikely!

The article Ray is talking about is very specfically concerned with the state of dining within Oxford itself: the city is, Lanchester writes, “one of those prosperous cities that is mysteriously short on good places to eat”.

The members of the Bullingon Club do indeed attend the University of Oxford, and the club itself is certainly famous for its extravagant and destructive dinners: carelessly damaged dining venues, smashed china, broken windows.

However, articles like Barney Ronay’s 2008 Young, Rich and Drunk point out that the club tends to dine “at some unsuspecting rural restaurant where a table has been booked under a pseudonym”, rather than within Oxford itself. This is certainly the pattern followed in, for example, a famous 2005 incident in which four participants in a club dinner were arrested; the dinner in this case was held at the White Hart, a fifteenth century pub in Fyfield ten miles outside Oxford.

For this reason, the Bullingdon Club’s reputation is probably not a primary reason for the apparent dearth of good restaurants in the city itself.

Roy Hollister asks:

Cheryl Cole says this is the last time she will talk about her private life. Is this a real promise, or a Liberal Democrat promise?

It’s not a promise at all; it’s just a statement! The distinction is important; it’s like the difference between “I promise I’ll be back by six” and “I’ll be back by six”. The former is a commitment to do something in the future, and the other is just a prediction.

What this means for Roy is that he will, if Cole talks about her private life in public again, be entitled merely to declare that she was wrong, rather than that she broke a promise.

Christopher Abbott asks:

Hooray! Cheryl Cole has spoken exclusively to Weekend! Who is she, by the way? She looks lovely!

Cheryl Cole is a popular singer. She became well-known initially as part of Girls Aloud, a British girl group who have sold many millions of records. Currently she is working as a soloist; her first solo album sold over one and a half million copies, and her second has just been released. She is also a judge on The X Factor, which is a British television talent show that regularly draws audiences of over ten million.

Liz Henderson asks:

For goodness sake, David Halkyard (Letters, 23 October). Many readers (like me) are/were private sector workers who have already faced redundancy. And when living in comparative poverty, a little escapism (in the form of covetable items in Weekend) is welcome. Are you saying that things you can’t afford should be hidden from you, you fragile thing?

David wasn’t quite suggesting that he should be protected from knowing about anythings he can’t afford. Rather, he was expressing frustration with the Magazine’s tendency to dwell on products that are unaffordable for many of its readers. He feels that this shows a careless incomprehension, on the part of the editors and contributors, of what he perceives to be their relative wealth and job security.

David and Liz clearly see the role of the magazine differently! Liz sees it, as she points out, as a piece of escapism, covering recently-released desirable clothes and household objects; whereas David sees it as a guide to products to consider purchasing. Liz is fortunate in that her conception more closely matches that of the editors.

Helen Gilbert asks:

How To Dress (16 October) informed us of the importance of belted coats (not coats with belts) and how the belts should not be chunky and tied like dressing gowns. Then All Ages (23 October) suggested four coats, all of said forbidden variety. Are you trying to mess with our heads?

Probably not on purpose, though the contradiction must have occured to the fashion editor! It’s likely, however, that the photography-intensive “All Ages” is planned further in advance than “How To Dress”; and that when last week’s “How To Dress” was submitted, plans for this week’s “All Ages” were already well underway.

Generally speaking, a “How to Dress” column is a reflection on a particular current trend, with the columnist drawing his or her own conclusions; so inevitably there will be occasions when a trend portrayed in “All Ages” is reflected on by Cartner-Morley or Petridis, and found wanting. The matter of coats with matching belts is, it seems, one on which reasonable people can be expected to disagree.

Rod Shaw asks:

With the exception of Dryden Goodwin, there is practically no artistic merit in your royal portraits. David Shrigley’s drawing of the Queen with its juvenile caption is particularly bad. Also, it beats me how Adam Dant won a prize for drawing. We are the nation that spawned Turner and Shakespeare. What has happened?

Gosh, Rod has just asked a very big question! A lot of changes have taken place in the art world in the 160 years since Turner’s death, and it’s beyond our scope to cover them here, but there are a lot of excellent books that could help to put the royal portraits into context. Gombrich’s The Story of Art is widely admired, and discusses art from prehistoric times up to around 1950; Norbert Lyton’s The Story of Modern Art is well-reviewed and more up-to-date, while Robert Hughes’ The Shock of the New is also considered excellent.

It’s worth bearing in mind, too, that Turner and Shakespeare are considered by many to be the best painter and writer, respectively, that England has produced in five hundred years. It’s perhaps not surprising that the artists commissioned by the Guardian do not, in Rod’s opinion, quite measure up.

Ida Alwin asks:

I can well understand why some of those featured in I Love You, But… wanted their identities kept secret. What happened to trust being the all-important building block of a relationship? With lovers like this, who needs enemies?

Trust is still considered by many to be important for a successful relationship! But the fact that something is widely considered important does not necessarily mean that that thing is universally practiced.

With regard to Ida’s second question, few people need enemies, though professional sports teams, for example, certainly benefit from having rivals. Indeed, ambitious and competitive practitioners from any field may find themselves spurred on to greater things by the accomplishments of an enemy or nemesis.

Edward Rowe asks:

Blind Date is an enjoyable read, but please will someone go home and shag rather than “race for the last train”? Not only will the daters have more fun, it will make for more interesting reading, too.

Probably not! Even subjects who would usually be keen to instigate sexual activity are going to be less likely to do so when they know the experience will be reported in the Guardian for their friends and family to read.

Indeed, we as readers might reasonably expect that Blind Daters who do “go home and shag” may in fact decline to tell us so. Perhaps Edward could satisfy salacious urges by pretending that any subjects who claim to have “rushed for the last train” have in fact concocted this story to conceal another, less sedate, activity.

Kevin Spencer asks:

What’s the right time to become a father? About 12 hours after reading Weekend: Ewan Leo Spencer was born at 4.20am on 11 October.

Like many readers, Kevin has answered his own rhetorical question; but in doing so he’s he’s fallen into an understandable error. We can deduce from his letter that his first child was born approximately twelve hours after he read the Guardian Weekend magazine, and it’s great that this has worked out for him so far – but that doesn’t mean that an hour later, or an hour earlier, would have been the “wrong” time even for him.

Still less does it mean that his supposed “right” time can be generalised to the population at large. Think, for example, of all the men whose children were born before the Guardian Weekend even existed, or who became fathers this weekend but who take a different Saturday newspaper.

Keri Pierce asks:

Does Tim Skelton feel the same antipathy for people from other religions, or is it just evangelical Christians he feels qualified to judge so harshly?

We haven’t been able to find out for certain, but we’d guess that Tim Skelton feels a little grumpy about evangelists from any religion. He does, however, seem to have a particular distaste for American fundamentalists – see, for example, his letter of September 2004 regarding Jeb Bush.

David Halkyard asks:

May I gently draw your attention to the magazine on 9 October – bicycle £895 (On The Road), Alexis Petridis sporting clobber to the tune of £694, Jess Cartner-Morley tricked out for a measly £300. I could go on, and on. Many readers (like me) are public sector workers facing redundancy and comparative poverty. Real people – as opposed, apparently, to well-heeled London journalists and socialites – can’t afford to spend that kind of money on ephemeral crap. Do you realise just how absurdly Marie Antionetteish that is?

Petridis, Cartner-Morley, and indeed the editor of the Magazine are almost certainly aware that the products they discuss can be too expensive for many of their readers. Indeed, in some cases the products may be too expensive for the reviewers themselves – generally speaking the clothes and vehicles that appear in a newspaper are supplied to journalists for the purposes of review, and do not come from the private wardrobe or garage of the reviewer.

They are probably not aware, however, of precisely how Marie Antoinettish the choices are; it’s a difficult measure to estimate! An average manual worker of Marie Antoinette’s day would have earnt around 25 sous – just over a livre. Marie Antoinette’s more extravagant dresses at the time cost up to 6000 or 7000 livre.

If we therefore assume that a choice Marie Antoinette dress cost a minimum of 4800 times the average manual worker’s day rate, and if we further assume that the average manual worker in Britain receives only minimum wage, a dress of equivalent Marie Antoinettishness today would come in at £227, 712.

Jess Cartner-Morley’s outfit in last week’s magazine, at around £300, is therefore around 0.13% Marie Antoinettish, while Alexis Petridis’ clothes come in at 0.3% Marie Antoinettish.

Kathleen O’Neill asks:

Has anyone told John Simpson that he is actually old enough to be his son’s great-grandfather?

Even if nobody’s pointed it out, he’s probably realised it himself – it’s the sort of calculation that older fathers are likely to indulge in, since age will already be on their minds!

On the other hand, the average UK father of a newborn is – with an age of 32 – technically old enough to be his child’s grandfather, and probably hasn’t had that pointed out to him.

Tim Skelton asks:

Why so surprised? With scary make-up, obscene lyrics and violent fans, Insane Clown Posse seem ideally qualified to be evangelical Christians.

I think Tim may be under a misapprehension as to current trends in Christian music! Billboard’s Christian album chart features artists such as LeCrae (representative lyric: You hold the earth in Your palm with Your great power); Matthew West (representative lyric: There’s only grace / There’s only love / There’s only mercy / And belive me it’s enough); and Jars of Clay (representative lyric: No greater love / No greater love / Can you say there’s no greater love?). These are a far cry from the Insane Clown Posse songs addressed by Ronson in his article (representative lyric: I stab people, four five people every day / I tried to see a shrink to stop that shit but there ain’t no fuckin’ way). They contain far fewer swear words, and many more instances of the word “love”, for example.

Additionally, images of the fans of topselling Christian artists show relatively little scary makeup and violence. Under these circumstances, Ronson’s surprise is understandable.

Emma Stansfield asks:

Who is this Dr Brian Cox anyway (Letters, 2 October)? The last I heard he was a professor.

He is indeed a professor, at the University of Manchester – but he has a PhD as well! Many reasonable people have therefore chosen to address him as “doctor” – including The Times, who could reasonably be expected to be more traditional about their use of titles than the Guardian.

It’s true that Cox’s Twitter account is under the username “profbriancox”, but Twitter usernames are as yet neither legally nor morally binding.

Don McMahan asks:

Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall calls for unsalted butter and salt in two of his fennel recipes. I’m sure a lot of people think there must be a good reason for this, but it’s really a lot of nonsense, isn’t it?

Well, it’s a bit of nonsense – recipes say this sort of thing a lot and you can nearly always use salted butter, with or without extra salt, and cause little trouble.

But it is the case that different varieties of salted butter contain different amounts of salt, so if you think there’s a significant difference between, say, a quarter of a teaspoon of salt and half a teaspoon of salt  – then you really are better off using unsalted butter, because it lets you keep track of just how much salt you’ve popped in.