Sarah Sands

Sarah Sands enjoyed decade long tenures at the London Evening Standard and The Daily Telegraph, before becoming the first female editor of the Sunday Telegraph in 2005. Her topical weekly column looks at social and cultural issues.

Sarah Sands: The sky's the limit for our daughters

At a party last week for London's 1,000 most influential people, Rachel Whetstone, of Google, noted there was something unusual about the gathering. "Where are all the women?" she murmured to me.

Recently by Sarah Sands

Sarah Sands: Why it takes a mother to make the male of the species blush

Sunday, 8 November 2009

No matter how powerful the man, he can always be embarrassed by his mum

Sarah Sands: Why I check the stationery cupboard for lovers

Sunday, 25 October 2009

A photograph in the Times business section of a tense and purposeful chief executive of an insurance company, framed by his office view of the City, suggests a motivational piece about coming through the recession leaner but more competitive, etc. But it turns out to be a report of an affair between Andrew Moss, the married chief executive of Aviva, and a member of his human resources department, Ms Deidre Moffat, now known as Deidre Galvin. What complicates matters further is that Ms Moffat's husband is the head of HR for Aviva in Europe.

Sarah Sands: It can't be true – it was in the newspaper

Sunday, 18 October 2009

If stars live on publicity, some of it will be made up

Sarah Sands: More email kisses would oil the wheels at work x x x

Sunday, 11 October 2009

A friend of mine, a clever, civilised man, once worked as a private banker to Fred Goodwin, during his reign of madness at Royal Bank of Scotland. My friend's field was not actually customer relationships, but Goodwin insisted that he would deal only with the most senior person in the bank where my friend worked.

Sarah Sands: Parakeets have turned Richmond into Rio

Sunday, 4 October 2009

During a birdwatching lull, after each of us had borrowed the best-looking tripod for a closer look at some marsh herons, the subject turned to the explosive issue of the ruddy duck. Being among friends, some of the company confessed that they were shooting the ducks on the quiet. Although they were introduced into this country during the 1950s, the ruddy ducks never really assimilated. They just bred and bred and made themselves a nuisance. No one used the expression "River Tiber foaming with much blood" but the tension in the twitching community was evident.

Sarah Sands: What a chap wants in bed – TV and a sarnie

Sunday, 27 September 2009

Stereotypically, the female areas of a house are the kitchen and the bedroom. Mail order brides are advised that they will need to perform in both. The male areas of the home are the downstairs lavatory and the garden shed.

Sarah Sands: Let us hope the Baroness pays her housekeeper well

Sunday, 20 September 2009

The most enjoyable sin to unmask in public figures is hypocrisy and the Daily Mail's discovery that the Attorney General had broken the very immigration law that she introduced has revived an 18th-century spirit of revelry in the media. The wit of Dr Samuel Johnson echoes still: "Be not too hasty to trust or admire the teachers of morality; they discourse like angels but they live like men."

Sarah Sands: Skip the hanky-panky and you just might score

Sunday, 13 September 2009

George Best used to tell the story of the night porter who brought a bottle of champagne to his hotel room shortly after he had walked out on Manchester United. The football star lay sprawled on a bed with casino winnings and a Miss World. "Would you mind if I asked you a question, George? Where did it all go wrong?"

Sarah Sands: Death in Hollywood: Cleopatra hunched in a wheelchair

Sunday, 6 September 2009

It is both shocking and poig-nantly apt that Dame Elizabeth Taylor was kept waiting for nearly two hours among empty chairs for Michael Jackson's funeral to begin. It is shocking because she is one of the last links with old Hollywood.

Sarah Sands: It's better to be a young mum – and cheaper, too

Sunday, 30 August 2009

The premise of Francis Wheen's new account of the Seventies, Strange Days Indeed, is that recent history can seem remarkably distant. It was pre- mobile phones, pre-Tony Blair and early Germaine Greer. Given the timescale, it is not surprising that we have lurched rather than marched towards social progress, particularly in the field of human relations.

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