For a moment I thought it was April the first. But it wasn't a joke, it was simply another huge technological leap forward for mankind. All the same, I'm not altogether convinced of the merits of a talking pinny.

Yes, that's right, an apron that speaks - which talks you through recipes and even throws in the odd tip or two, enabling even the most inept cooks to rustle up a culinary masterpiece for dinner guests.

What those guests will think when they put an ear to the serving hatch (don't we all?) to hear some dalek-like voice cackling "Add the salt and simmer for five minutes," is anyone's guess. It's bad enough having to make all those slurping noises when you pretend your instant coffee is real.

We've got talking dashboards in cars which can give directions (what's wrong with a map?), "intelligent" kitchens with fridges that tell you what foods you're low on (easy enough to have a look), and those dreadful machines which speak-your-weight (why are they always sited in the most public locations - the middle of the pier in a bustling holiday resort isn't the best place to be told not to bother unpacking your bikini).

Now we're being offered the chatty apron. But do we really need it? About as much as Snow White's stepmum needed her talking mirror (look at all the angst that caused). There are recipe books for those who want to cook, and no tape recording could possibly keep pace with me - the casserole would be baked, served and eaten before I'd found the mixing bowl.

It's yet another ridiculous so-called innovation. Not that I'm against talking products - my children love their electronic toys which spout a range of greetings at the touch of a button.

I'm sure there's a market for them - only much of it remains untapped. I've put together a shortlist of items which would take the world by storm - if only they could talk:

Trousers...which tell you if your bum looks big.

Socks and Y-fronts...which tell the wearer when they need changing.

Tights/stockings...that alert women to the beginnings of what is destined to become an unsightly thigh-to-toe ladder (why don't friends ever tell you?)

Nappies...that tell mums when they need changing.

Small, sharp objects and hazardous household substances...which yell when anyone under five comes within a six-foot radius.

House & car keys...which tell you where they are hiding.

Car bumpers...that warn drivers when they're about to hit something (like a lamp-post, as I did in the dark last week, or a shopping trolley, which, my insurers tell me, make up a vast number of claims)

Televisions...which call you when Coronation Street is about to start.

Fatty food... that tell you to lay off until you've lost a few pounds.

Now these things would really be useful. But if asked which talking item I'd like most, it would have to be a husband.

One which addressed problems, answered questions and discussed day-to-day household issues without clamming up and stomping out of the room. Sadly, as things stand, I could probably get more in the way of conversation from that pinny.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.