‘Catch it, bin it, kill it' is what we are being encouraged to do, as swine flu paranoia, if not swine flu itself, sweeps the country.

Our Government is encouraging us to sneeze and blow into paper tissues, or, as they put it in such simple, accessible English, ‘practise correct respiratory and hand hygiene when coughing and sneezing, to prevent the spread of germs particularly during the cold and flu season.'

I for one will not be stuffing my handbag full of those nasty little packets of tissues. Not for me that revolting instant damp disintegration in the hand, followed by fumbling for a hand mirror to pick bits of tissue off my nose. No siree. No Government brow-beating will ever part me from my good old-fashioned hankies. 

Tissue manufacturers must be jumping for joy at this latest campaign. And waste disposal companies holding their heads in their hands. OK of course we don't want inconsiderate folk spraying everyone else with their germs. But I just don't see why we should be encouraged to produce more waste when we could ‘catch it' in a nice clean cotton hankie, and throw it in a good 90 degree wash. Does that kill the bugs? I don't know, but I like the principle a great deal more than I like the idea of virus-laden tissues fermenting in household bins and rubbish bags for a week.

But hygiene aside, if you've got to be poorly, at least do it in style. And is there anything less classy than a naff packet of tissues emblazoned with the image of some ghastly cartoon character? Surely it's much more pleasurable to dip into a selection of pretty little cotton squares.

My collection of hankies is extensive. Ironed and folded they take up a good six inch long space in my drawer. But there are many treasures within. Hankies that I had as a child with pictures of dachshunds on, my Dad's monogrammed hankies (large enough for a substantial cold - he had a big nose), pretty embroidered examples my mother had when she was a child, and numerous other delicate delights that I've picked up from second hand shops along the way (normally for 20p - cheaper than tissues). They are little works of art.

Young girls began their embroidery training with hankies. You can still pick up Victorian and Edwardian examples for a song, with intricate lacework and other embellishment. What stories they could tell. Many are so delicate that they really are only good for one blow. But I say if you've got one blow, then make it a stylish one.

I shall doubtless now be stricken down with swine flu, both for my tissue terrorism and my arrogant belief that yoga and good food have left my immune system in a reasonably vigorous state. But if I do take to my bed, it will be with a certain standard of elegance upheld and a good supply of antique embroidered hankies.