Lily hates Cheryl. Cheryl hates Lily. Cheryl hates Charlotte too. Amy and Lily hated each other but now they're friends again. Lily said everyone thinks she's ugly and cried her eyes out. Cheryl and her gang didn't care, because Lily called them ugly too.

Meanwhile, everyone wants to be Kate's friend - but she only has eyes for Pete.

Eight-year-olds at war in the school playground would have more self restraint than this lot. It seems you're not a proper starlet these days unless you're having a very public go at a fellow celeb.

Lily Allen and Girls Aloud's Cheryl Cole are currently battling it out in the tabloids, hurling insults at each other like fishwives. Diehard Londoner Lily even resorted to mocking Chezza's Geordie accent, something Lily will probably live to regret if she ever plays in Newcastle. Lily also had a pop at Amy Winehouse, comparing her to a twiglet or something, and Cheryl accused Charlotte Church of trying to copy Girls Aloud.

Katie Price has been mocking Victoria Beckham's attempts to worm her way into LA's high society, and who knows where the land lies with Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie who seem to fall out as often as they change their oversized bug-like sunglasses.

This celebrity bitchfest is getting a bit daft. I don't know about you, but I left this sort of carry on behind in the playground when I was 10. You'd fall out with your best friend over something ridiculous like not sharing your fruit salad chews and you were never talking to them again - until the next day when you shook hands and chanted "Make friends, make friends, never never break friends."

That's fine when you're still in knee-socks and you're buying fruit salad chews with your pocket money. You could even get away with silly spats in your teenage years.

But the likes of Lily and Cheryl are in their twenties for heaven's sake. They're old enough to have been through university, to be married with a couple of children, to be holding down responsible jobs.

When my grandma was Lily Allen's age, 22, she'd been married four years and had two children. She'd been working in the mills since she was 12. She didn't have time for pointless slanging matches because she was too busy bringing up a family, keeping a home and making ends meet.

It might sound like a Catherine Cookson novel but this was real life for most ordinary women of my grandma's generation in the 1930s.

And today there are millions of other young women just getting on with life and all it throws at them. Not for them the shameless self pity of a girl like Lily Allen, who regularly blubs into her Myspace blog because she thinks she's fat and ugly. Shouldn't she have left that kind of angst behind when she turned 16?

Lily et al like to think of themselves as feisty girls with attitude but I can't helping thinking they wouldn't last two minutes if they had to work in mills, factories or anywhere else that requires hard graft and common sense.

These women have the best of everything; they dine in the best restaurants, party in the best clubs and holiday in the best resorts. They have their pick of designer outfits and they're styled to within an inch of their lives so they don't even need to think about what to wear when they get out of bed (and God forbid they should get out of bed at the same time as the rest of us).

They're driven everywhere in flash cars - not for them the sobering prospect of a freezing cold, violent queue for taxis after a night out - and they have posses of hangers-on to arrange their daily diaries. Every cough and spit of their lives is photographed in the pages of glossy magazines - and they get paid hundred of thousands of pounds for the privilege.

It's the kind of lifestyle that turns grown women into spoilt little girls and sadly that appears to be what has happened with Lily and co.

We need strong young female role models who embrace life and aren't frightened of a day's work - not a bunch of self-obsessed whingers. This lot need to think themselves lucky and grow up.