Right now, I'm looking out of my window at the new Subaru Impreza WRX, and I'm sorry, but there's no getting away from the big, all-consuming, overpowering fact that despite a number of outstanding features, no one in their right mind will buy such a thing. Because it looks like it's been hosed down with a massive and sustained burst of fire from the ugly gun.

There is no excuse for this. There are designers at Subaru who can create a pretty car. You only need cast an appreciative eye over the Legacy shooting brake to know that. But Subaru obviously felt that when it came to the Impreza, the badge alone would be enough to carry the day. And therefore allowed the styling to be done by the boss's dog.

They are wrong. No one will buy an ugly sofa, no matter how comfortable or cheap it might be. And while women harbour the Austenesque notion that men find kindness, a good heart and a sense of humour important when looking for a spouse, the fact is that what we really want is tits like the Alps, legs like the Silk Road and a face like Kiera Knightley's.

I like a painting. But I will not buy one, no matter how deft the brushwork, or how well the artist captures the natural light, if the subject matter is James May's scrotum. Because I would not find that attractive.

And look at animals. If I told you the Dobsonfly - the ugliest creature ever to walk the earth - was in danger of extinction, you'd be glad. If, on the other hand, I showed you a picture of some cute little tiger cub that was about to be chopped up by a Chinaman who wanted its bones to make his penis bigger, you'd be on the first plane to Beijing, full of hate and righteous indignation.

No one gave much of a damn when the hideous dodo went West. But when Al Gore says baby polar bears are all drowning (they're not, by the way), half the bloody world puts its patio heaters on eBay.

I'll give you a simple fact. When it comes to cars, looks are everything. What first catches a person's attention is not the reaction time of the sequential 'box or the size of the boot. It is the styling.

You might imagine, if you've seen the clothes I wear, or the hairstyle I choose, that I wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a good-looking car and an ugly one, even if my life depended on it.

But look at the cars I've owned over the years: a Mark One VW Scirocco, a BMW 3.0 CSL, a 1500cc Honda CRX, an Alfa Romeo GTV6, a Ford Escort Cosworth, a Ferrari 355, a Mercedes SL and SLK and a Lamborghini Gallardo Spyder. Not a minger among them, you'll note.