The Independent manages to make a longish story out of the fact that the Ann Summers chain of sex-shops is introducing a new line of sexy lingerie named after Lady Chatterley, famed heroine of D.H. Lawrence's much-banned novel Lady Chatterley's Lover. And guess what -- the trustees of the Lawrence estate are hopping mad. (Maud Newton link.)
By the way, as of this morning, the Indie seems to want you to pay money to read this story. Don't bother. Try the Times instead.
The trustees' objection, apparently, is that Lawrence would have been appalled by the sale of vulgar knickers. (They're not worried about not being paid any money, you will be pleased to note.)
Well, that's a bit bloody rich, I must say. I have always found Lady C to be completely unreadable, and the various movies made about her have not been any better. But for the literary executor to complain about underwear is just too silly for words. Lady C includes every 'dirty' word in the English language, many times over, plus a dose of anal sex (which had to be decoded for 1960s readers by no less a person than the Warden of All Souls, as I recall).
Ann Summers and co, meanwhile, must be deeply grateful for the publicity.