By Kayt Turner: 'I just keep tying my hair back. But it's less wanton sex goddess, more Ma Walton'

IT'S a question that has been troubling me of late. Long or short? Don't worry, I'm not talking about skirts. That was a lesson harshly learned in my early twenties. My knees haven't seen daylight since. But even permanent darkness cannot completely extinguish the problem. Opaque and control tights might do wonders for other parts of my legs, but nothing helps the knee. But I digress.

No, my long or short dilemma is entirely focused on my hair. Should a woman over 40 really have long hair? Friends say to me, "Don't give it a second thought. Look at Jerry Hall and Jane Seymour." And in answer to them I say: "Ah yes, but look at Jerry Hall and Jane Seymour."

My problem is that my hair is fine. That's my hairdresser's incredibly polite way of saying thin and ratty. If I had long, lustrous, flowing locks, then I wouldn't be having this fevered internal debate. Actually, not that internal. I've canvassed opinion from almost everyone I know – if not everyone I meet. They are all asked whether or not I should have my hair cut. You can see how much their opinion means to me by the fact that I'm still debating the same bloody issue.

The problem – and the benefit – of long hair is that it can be tied back. Meaning that it requires absolutely no effort at all. The theory is that you can style long hair almost any way you want. And, indeed, I have almost every styling implement that has ever been invented. I have straighteners, curlers and rollers, bristle brushes, paddle brushes, hair clasps, grips and bands. Do I ever use any of them? Nope. I just tie my hair back. Less wanton sex goddess, more Ma Walton.

Mr Turner makes the not unreasonable point that if I'm going to tie it back, would I not be just as well having it cut short? It would certainly put a stop to us finding hair everywhere and in everything at Turner Towers. He compares it to keeping a setter with mange. And I'm sure there are many times that he's thought that would be a much easier gig.

I'm not scared of the thought of having short hair. It's not as if I've never had my hair cut. As dodgy family photographs will testify, I've frequently had short hair … sometimes, incredibly short hair. In fact, just after getting engaged, I had all my hair cut off. Think Servalan from Blake's Seven, but younger. It's not that I was planning a TV sci-fi themed wedding, I just fancied a change. However, I had cheekbones then. And a jawline rather than a couple of chins. But with the arrogance of youth, I could calmly state: "It's just hair. It'll grow back." I'm not certain that I could make the same boast today.

Once I make the actual decision, I then open up the whole minefield of how exactly I would have it cut. A sleek, all-purpose bob would be nice. Until people start saying: "Oh, just like Posh has?" I think not. Short and sharp like the model Agyness Deyn? Think I'd look too much like a toilet brush. A little elfin crop like Kylie had? If you're in the mood for ba' faced elves I'm sure it would be fine.

So now we come to the real issue with my hair. The thing that has caused me to start chewing my nails and cost me many a night's sleep.

I've started to look at Lulu's hair with something approaching envy. That's not good.