This is an unassailable fact. People blessed with two different colour eyes ooze cool. David Bowie, the smoothest cat of this century has them. As does Jane Seymour of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, the gutsiest broad of the fictional nineteenth century. And while I think I could rest my case rather convincingly with Dr. Quinn, I will forge onwards.

Pheromones go batty for hints of pre homo-sapien evolutionary existence and, like a subtle scent of b.o. or a sprinkling of stubble on armpits, there’s something undeniably primal about two different coloured eyes.

One brown eye, one blue eye: clearly you’re half husky. Awhoooo. Let’s go roll in the snow and tug sleds around (wink, wink). One green eye, one hazel eye: you’re like a chameleon blending into a tropical fern (catch me if you can). One red eye, one yellow eye: you’re the spawn of Satan. Doesn’t get hotter than that.

For those of us born with same ol’ same ol’ matching eyes – curse my dull perfectly symmetrical face – welcome to the wonderful world of colour contacts. Not only can you get sky blue, but for added fierceness mix a Skull & Cross Bones lens with a Spider on a Web style. Or support our troops by sporting an army fatigue patterned lens.

Livid with jealousy, your friends might complain: “I can’t concentrate on this conversation. Your diamond shaped pupil is giving me the heebie jeebies.”

How parochial!

Eye contact is overrated. Who needs it when you are fully entitled to sashay about the dance floor every time that New Order’s Temptation comes on? “Oh, you’ve got green eyes. Oh, you’ve got blue eyes. Oh, you’ve got graaaaaay eyes.”

Yes, you’ve never met anyone quite like me before. Well, except for Dr. Quinn.