IN THE opening scenes of Some Like It Hot, a group of gangsters smuggle bottles of whisky into a speakeasy via bullet-riddled coffins. They enter a sombre funeral parlour, whisper a password and a secret door slides opens, a gateway from the streets of Chicago into a glamorous world of beautiful women, smoky jazz music and decadent drinking. The message is clear: alcohol may have been illegal but in 1920s America, it was also incredibly cool.
Today we have the same situation with smoking - and for some smokers its illicitness has merely heightened the appeal. Around the world, Ireland has recently joined the ranks of Norway and several states in Canada and the US, including New York and C
alifornia, in enforcing a ban on public smoking. Holland is bringing in a ban next year. Meanwhile the Scottish Executive is floating the idea of a public ban as part of an ongoing consultation, unsurprising when you consider 13,000 Scots die every year from smoking related diseases.
But despite of all these bans - or perhaps because of them - smoking undoubtedly still holds a place in society. Nowhere is this more obvious than in BBC 3’s new comedy series, The Smoking Room. A group of characters are united by their love of the weed and huddle together in a small, nicotine-stained room sharing their lives.
For the hardened socialites of New York, meanwhile, smoking has become deeply, unimpeachably, nigh-on-illegally cool. Forcing smokers onto the sidewalks has merely strengthened their rebellious sensibilities and tested their inventiveness. This is a town where, to beat the ban, some of the more salubrious nightclubs have stretch-limos parked outside to accommodate the clientele who wish to smoke but don’t want to hang out on the streets. This is the city where Vanity Fair put out bowls of cigarettes on the tables at its after-show party for the pretty people who went to the Oscars, a city where a bar on Las Olas Boulevard serves a cocktail called the Nicotini, a cocktail which is basically a liquid cigarette with vodka. Who says smokers have no taste?
Plum Sykes, author of Bergdorf Blondes, a hip new novel charting the life of a group of Manhattan socialites whose decadence and elegance would even put Carrie Bradshaw to shame, says that no-one who’s anyone smokes inside anymore. "Smoking is very much a sign of power now," she said recently.
A restaurant in Gotham even provides a mink coat for ladies who need to step outside to smoke, and a lot of serious networking is now being done on the pavements rather than the boardroom. It seems that the fact that cigarettes are forbidden has leant them a new, stylish cachét.
Meanwhile, the likes of Kate Moss, Charlotte Church, and Britney, all staple fodder of tabloids and celebrity magazines, are often seen puffing away on cigarettes. But is this trend enough to wipe out all the fine work done by the health professionals and politicians? Not exactly, says Allen Carr, who has sold three million books on quitting, including the hugely successful Allen Carr’s Easy Way to Stop Smoking.
"I don’t believe we ever really smoked because it was cool, though that’s what we tell ourselves," he says. "We do it because we think it’s grown up. Women think it’s chic, men think it’s tough. But they’re excuses.
"I say to all smokers as part of my therapy, ‘Tell me what you’re enjoying. Tell me where’s the pleasure. Do firemen breathe filth into their lungs in burning buildings? Where’s the pleasure in that?’
"They believe it’s a comfort and a crutch. It’s a very simple confidence trick. When nicotine leaves the body it creates an empty and insecure feeling. When you light up it’s partially relieved, so you feel better than the moment before. But it’s like wearing tight shoes just to get the pleasure of taking them off, or banging your head against a wall to make it feel better when you stop."
The Smoking Room, BBC3, Tuesday 29 June at 9pm.
