Call me lucky, but I always seem to be in the right place at the right time. Case in point: I was having a few drinks at a bar the other night and the music was just starting to get funky when a girl near us got up on the table and started to boogie like she was someone out of a Britney video. Yep, I know - I should've left immediately to buy a lotto ticket. But I figured this wasn't entirely unusual behaviour to see late on a Friday night. We've all witnessed it (or done it) at some point and most of the time it's dismissed as a bit of harmless (or drunken) fun. But in this case, the attention-seeking woman who was shaking her ass like Beyonce on an equally shaky table, was incredibly gorgeous and happened to be wearing a top that would barely have covered my beer, let alone her breasts.

It was as though someone had turned down the volume knob controlling our conversation. I sat spellbound for an unknown length of time, mesmerised by her rhythmic gyrations, until my girlfriend (who was also watching, though I couldn't tell if it was in disgust or envy) slapped me to my senses. As I came to, I realised that all the guys at the table were copping similar treatment from their girlfriends. And it wasn't just our small group staring at her like desperate horny teenagers, it was every guy in the place.

Were we to blame? No! Where else would we look when there's a hot Flashy Woman (FW) shaking her booty in our face? It's inescapable and undeniably ingrained into our subconscious: we're simply helpless when a FW is around. You know the type as well as we do. She's the girl who wears the low-cut top that makes her over-inflated cleavage puff out like ripe peaches on display, or puts on the mini that mocks the very idea of clothing. She's a boy's girl who only has male friends and carries a new man on her arm like a brand-new Gucci bag. You hate her, but do we, guys, really like her? Um, unfortunately, the answer is “Yes, you'd better believe it!”

“Huh?” I hear you ask. Why would we like the two-bit hussy with the cheap plastic shoes? Well, take Pamela Anderson, the original Flashy Woman, as an example. We know she has fake boobs, an even faker tan and that her skirts are no bigger than your average hankerchief but though we try to look away, we just can't. Even though the attraction is only a superficial one. Call us stupid.

Men are simple creatures whose needs don't stray too far from satisfying the most basic desires. Eating, drinking, sleeping and watching sport on TV are pretty much it. However, the most primal of our desires is to go forth and procreate, not because we want to fill the world with a small mini-me army (although that is a bonus), but because we have absolutely no control over our sex drive. In reality we are the victims of a cruel practical joke played on us by God, then picked up by advertisers and marketers who could see the limitless possibilities that placing a fantastically attractive woman next to a packet of chips or a set of spanners could have. We think that if we had the chips or the spanners, we could have the hot woman as well. This theory explains a lot about why we find the girl in the tight clothes bending over a pool table, flashing her assets at the guys at either end, so damn sexy. Years of being bombarded with images of females on TV has left us with no alternative but to find this stereotype – the overdone girl with the big hair and even bigger cleavage – appealing.

It's not just the FW's blatant disregard for her comfort that we appreciate (I hear those heels, push-up bras and short skirts can be downright torturous, particularly in the cold). It does run a little deeper than that, but only marginally. The FW appeals to us because of her attitude. She's confident in herself and how she appears and, no matter how cliched that sounds, it's 100 per cent true. A woman with the guts to dress in a mini that shows a lot of thigh has half the battle already won. Confidence is the true aphrodisiac and that can be said from either side of the gender divide. So, if you're deciding whether or not to tie a jumper around your waist to hide your arse, I recommend not.

But – and this is a big but – before you write us off as barbaric man-beasts who place all importance on looks and superficial appearances and condemn us to an eternity of nights on the couch with only the TV for company, listen carefully: our infatuation is purley one-dimensional. We want the flashy woman – yes - but for one thing only. Well, two things: to look at and to fool around with. But she's not the kind of girl we generally view as girlfriend material or as the type we'd take home to mum – do we really want to be subjected to years of our mates perving up our girlfriend's skirt? Or our mum's constant disapproving looks? (Sure, our dad would be forever grateful, but that's another story.) The fact is, the FW is great to look at and I'm not going to lie and say we hate her. And for the record, if your boyfriend says he doesn't think Pammy is hot, he's lying. But any guy who is worth his weight in footballs wouldn't want to be her boyfriend. Not for long, anyway.

This is not to say that there aren't plenty of flashy women out there who are both sexy and intelligent. But I am saying that we guys are slowly learning to judge a woman on more than just her appearance and that we're aware that we have to get to know a woman on a deeper level before we decide whether she's for us or not. But please don't bag us for perving on the FW, because we just can't help it.

- James Savage