IT was like a scene from a classic romance. She was dressed in pale pink silk, her gown gently caressing the floor and her head adorned with a dainty, bejewelled crown. He was in rags, but his head remained high and there was a definite twinkle in his thickly-lashed blue eyes.

"I have to tell you something," he said, pushing his tattered hat back at a jaunty angle. "You look absolutely beautiful."

Blushing fiercely, the princess picked up her flowing robe and ran full-pelt into the playground.

"If I catch you I'm going to kiss you," yelled the ragamuffin, casting aside his sandwich box and hurtling off after her.

Yes, it was fancy dress day at school and, yes, my six-year-old has discovered the joys of 'kiss-catch', or 'kiss-cats' as he insists the modern version of this age-old playground pastime is called.

He didn't stand a chance on this particular occasion, however. When he finally pushed his way through the crowd of mums into the playground he was confronted by not one pink princess, but about 20.

There were pink princesses on the buddy bench, pink princesses whizzing down the slide and pink princesses hanging upside down on the monkey bars (their mums had their heads in their hands and were weeping quietly to themselves).

Undeterred by the odds, my lad launched himself into the throng looking for the particular pink princess who had caught his eye.

In the end, he couldn't find her, so he opted for grabbing the next princess who happened to be passing by and trying to smooch her instead. Now I come to think of it, I seem to remember his dad's technique was pretty much the same.

After much thought, numerous scientific experiments and in-depth debate with interested parties from across the globe - okay, I mulled it over in my lunch hour - I have come to the conclusion that girls are much easier than boys when it comes to fancy dress (but not, their parents will be pleased to know, when it comes to kiss-catch - they run like hell).

The brief from school was clear: dress as a character from a traditional tale or rhyme. For girls, there was only one choice. They might have dressed up as Snow White, Belle (from Beauty and the Beast), Sleeping Beauty or Cinderella, but they were all pink princesses. Delightful, giggly, pretty pink princesses, but pink princesses all the same.

There are always one or two mavericks. In this instance, a Hickory Dickory Dock mouse and one of Goldilocks bears (which particular mouse and bear was left unspecified, but both were cuter than a sweet shop full of puppies). But generally, if you ask girls to dress up they will head straight for the frocks box.

No boy, however, will ever ask if he can be Prince Charming. They always want to be a character that has a) a sword for poking other small boys with, b) a cape for general swishing about or c) the ability to fly and the secret of invisibility.

If these choices are not forthcoming, then they will grudgingly make do with anything they can roll around in the mud in without being yelled at.

Which is one of the reasons why my lad turned up as Jack from Jack And The Beanstalk, with raggy, patched trousers, a torn shirt and a battered old straw sunhat with a big hole in the top.

Needless to say he returned home even more raggy, torn and battered.

But at least he had a big grin on his face too. Apparently some pink princesses are slower runners than others.

Updated: 09:00 Monday, February 07, 2005