I am old enough to remember Paula Yates in all her quirky beauty. Being Irish I had a special interest in her life when she was hanging out with Bob Geldof as he was belting out dodgy songs with The Boomtown Rats. The band called her 'The Limpet'  in the days before Bob began to save the world. 

As Paula matured she maintained her gamine beauty, and displayed a sparkling intellect which she regularly exhibited in her heyday as one of TVs most popular presenters.  I clearly remember watching her flirting and presumably falling in love on the Big Breakfast Bed, as she interviewed the beautiful Michael Hutchence. And the rest is history. Her end was made all the more tragic by the fact that she left behind four beautiful young daughters.

These days, the media is full of Paula's middle daughter Peaches who seems, like her mother, to like living life on the edge. And she worries me. She seems, at times, to have the most tenuous of grips over control of her life. As Peaches swings from a career as a journalist to TV presenter, from magazine editor to model, and commits to a short-lived wedding in Las Vegas, I have an uneasy sense of deja vous.  

Peaches, like her beautiful mother, often seems to be just one step away from disaster.  On the one hand I admire her spirit and her energy, on the other I suspect there's an unsure little girl beneath the tattoos and the bolshie attitude. Is her fractured family life behind her crazy quest for fulfilment? I don't know. 

I know how uncomfortable it is to watch your teenage daughter heading off for a night out in what you consider a wholly inappropriate outfit. Peaches makes me uncomfortable in the same way - and I am not her mother. What would Paula think? How would she advise her?  I am sure she would not like her daughter to make the same mistakes she did.

This week Peaches was photographed at a party in Cannes and she looked stunning; an elegant and very beautiful young woman - although her famous tattoos did detract slightly from the effect. I hope she can see just who she can become. The world is her oyster.  The choices are hers. History does not always need to repeat itself. Peaches, you are a special beauty. Your mother would have loved those photos from Cannes, but she would also want you to mind yourself!