Annette Cunningham is left feeling regretful in a world full of cosmetically enhanced smiles

I never thought I would ever find myself saying this, but boy do I wish I had taken Pam Ayres’ advice. There’s no doubt about it, her whimsical ditty carried a punch more powerful than any government health warning. Undeniably, she told us all to look after our teeth. Her rhyming couplets warned of the consequences of not treating your molars with the utmost respect. Now, I really shouldn’t beat myself up.

I haven’t been bad, but in truth I could probably have done a whole lot better.

Fortunately, I’m not talking decay, fillings and pain here, the main concern of Ms Ayres. However, a more rigorous toothbrush routine may have helped lessen the gum shrinkage and tooth crowding that has had the sheer audacity to invite itself round. It may not hurt, but damn it, it’s just not sexy.

A few decades ago, a visit from the twirling tooth fairy, bearing a shiny 50p coin in exchange for a tooth, was the most magical thing in the world. Now the very thought of the little tyke planning a repeat trip sometime in the future makes my blood run cold and brings me out in a cold sweat.

The thing is, when Pam was spouting her words of wisdom, we still lived in a world of normal teeth. If I had realised that I would be up against a world full of cosmetically enhanced smiles 40 years later, I would have flossed after each and every mouthful.

Watching a 1970s episode of Top of the Pops recently, a truly wonderful way to spend an evening, the one thing that really stood out was the teeth on parade. I mean that literally.

Unlike today, musicians, movie stars and other sex symbols did not have two perfect rows of pearly whites to flash at the cameras. On the contrary, there were several sets of tusks on display that were crooked or jutting and, to be honest, verging on the grey side. It was the norm.

A documentary programme about Top of the Pops revealed that some of the punk, rock and new wave bands were so horrified to find themselves sharing the same studio with the pert pop princesses they considered talentless, that they rebelled. One artist even insisted that the make-up department blacked out his teeth to make him appear as unglamorous as possible.

For them it was all about the music. They didn’t want to be judged for their looks. And, let’s face it none us want that, but unfortunately we are – and let’s get real, it’s a crime that most of us are guilty of too.

Oh Pam, if only I had paid heed to your words...

‘I used to have teeth that were strong, But now they are getting too long, I so wish I’d flossed, since I’m now paying the cost, by having a set that look wrong!’

Hell, it’s nothing a corrective visit to Harley Street wouldn’t remedy, but in reality I may just have to floss, grin and bare it.