Monopoly gets a makeover

"GO to jail, do not pass go, do not collect £200".

If you spent wintry weekend afternoons as a child losing at Monopoly, these words may still have the power to bring you to the brink of tears.

Round our house, my dad would take on my sister and me, while mum was in the kitchen making Sunday dinner.

Dad was always the banker, and it wasn't long before we realised his property empire was being built on stolen funds.

As we landed on yet another of his hotels and were forced to remortgage our properties to pay the extortionate rents, tantrums ensued and mum would storm into the lounge, give my dad a withering look, then tip up the board announcing: "Game over'.

I haven't played Monopoly since, but was tempted to have another roll of the dice when I spotted the new Boutique version, unashamedly aimed at the pinker sex.

It comes in a gorgeous fabric-covered pink keepsake box, which opens like a large jewellery box. I half expected to see a ballerina doll twirling round to Lara's Theme from Dr Zhivago, but instead there's all the paraphernalia you need to play Monopoly.

To try it out, I got together with my pals from The Press, Tal, Becky and Lisa. To make it more fun, we decided to pursue the pink theme. We all agreed to be pink ladies for the night and wear something pink and bring appropriately-coloured food and drink.

We met at Lisa's and laid out our "pink-nic": prawn cocktail Skips; wafer biscuits, strawberry bonbons, fairy cakes, sparkling rosé and elderflower and strawberry bubbly.

There was much excitement and giggling as we tucked into the goodies and opened the pink Monopoly box to lay out the game. In the Boutique version, the green houses and red hotels have been replaced by purple boutiques and raspberry pink shopping malls. Instead of the dog, iron, racing car, battleship, top hat and boot counters, there is a flip-flop, handbag, hairdryer, skateboard, mobile phone, sunglasses and a football (for would-be WAGs, no doubt). There is a dog, but it is one of those dinky types beloved by the likes of Paris Hilton and Gerri Halliwell (particularly when worn clutch-bag like under the arm).

As you might expect, the pink theme extends to the board itself and even the dice. Instead of buying up London properties, we are given the chance to snap up the likes of Diana's Designer Clothing, Angela's Travel Agency and Pamela's Perfumes.

Gone are Community Chest and Chance cards, to make way for Instant Message and Text Message.

Their contents have been brought up to date, too. One Text Message read: "Hot boy band in town! Collect $50 from every player for front row seats!". Tal landed that one, and smiled in delight at suddenly becoming $150 richer. But the rest of us groaned at the financial hit.

"It better be Take That," quipped Becky as she begrudgingly handed over one of her lilac $50 notes.

Tal proceeded to invest her windfall on a mall at Heather's Hair Salon (rent: $1,100) and Lisa shrieked as her next throw took her straight there for an unwanted appointment.

It took a good hour for the game to get going and only reached fever pitch when we started building up our retail empires and stared bankruptcy in the face as we ran the gauntlet from Lauren's Lemonade Stand to Savannah's Super Spa, praying that we would miss the malls. The sugary bon-bons and even sweeter drinks helped take excitement levels to the top of the squeal-ometer.

Lisa and I both ended up in jail at the same time and were perfectly happy to do our time (three turns unless you throw a double) and collect rents from the others.

We played the game for a good two-and-a-half hours before our funds started to sink. There is a short version of the game too, which dishes out three properties to each player at the start, and we chose to follow its rules on how to bring play to a close. We agreed to finish when one of us hit skid row.

Becky, our banker, was the first to declare bankruptcy. As she counted her miserable piles of $1 and $5 notes and furiously began to mortgage her properties in a desperate attempt to raise $1,000, she threw in her cards. "This is scarily starting to resemble real life," she said.

I was gutted because she owed me the rent.

Lisa was relieved because she was approaching Tal's row of malls with just a few hundred dollars left to spend.

Tal was delighted because she had a wad of cash as well as an empire of malls and boutiques across the board.

We declared her the winner, then had a cup of tea to calm us down after all that adrenaline (not to mention sugar).

It was such good fun that we all agreed to do it again, but with a different board game.

I reckon we'll work our way through Pictionary next, or perhaps Scoop, based on putting together a newspaper.

But there will be one strict rule: leave the sweet stuff at home.

Monopoly Boutique Edition, from Hasbro, exclusive to Toys R Us £24.99 (suitable for eight years plus).