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We love you Coleen, we do

How we were humbled and learned to love a Wag

Coleen McLoughlin Rooney

Coleen and hubby Wayne

Coleen with her sister Rosie

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Coleen McLoughlin Rooney – discuss. Yeah, can't say we've ever been a fan. Coleen-bashing used to be a favourite pastime. Not that she isn't a grand girl, but she's also a damning sign of the times: ultimate proof that talent or accomplishment are not requirements when it comes to achieving celebrity status. Coleen – and she cheerfully admits this – got her books and modelling deals, her column in Ok and Closer magazines, DVD work-out and TV show on the basis of being Wayne Rooney's mot. And, as she also cheerfully admits, she's not a writer, model or TV presenter. She's just an ordinary girl-next-door who got lucky and rich. Jealous? Us? Nah. We're above that.

But we're not above snobbery. No matter how many Prada dresses she owns, she still has to sleep with Wayne every night (Could you? Could you really?) and she's never lost her patina as a former checkout girl who used to meet her future husband down the local chipper for dates. Ultimately, when the whole inane celebrity thing imploded, Coleen would disappear back to her suburban vortex and the truly worthy and stylish people (ie us) would rise.

Two things wiped the sneery amusement off our faces. Firstly on a nine-hour flight and having exhausted all other reading possibilities, there was nothing else to do except read Coleen: Welcome To My World. She just came across as so sweet. Like how much she loves her family, especially her adopted sister Rosie, who is severely disabled and who Coleen never eats her dinner in front of because Rosie has to be fed through a tube through her stomach. And how she's so, so grateful with the largesse that has come her way and how Liverpool will always be home and how the bad press she gets upsets her and how nothing Wayne does upsets her except when he bites his nails.

The second thing that had us reassessing our position on Coleen was the court case last week, where a legal battle with a sports agency revealed how extremely wealthy she is. Whatever about Wayne's extraordinary income, C herself gets £41,667 a month for her mag column, and £283,334 for an eight-book deal. Where from majority of us are now
sitting, worrying about our jobs, wondering if we can
afford Christmas, thinking guiltily of the days when we took taxis with wild
abandon, it's not quite so easy to dismiss her. Back to the drawing board…