WHEN I was wee, somebody said: "Always wear clean underwear, because you never know when you'll get hit by a bus!"

It worked. Fear of appearing on the emergency operating table in dirty drawers or a vile vest (being covered in blood would be the least of my worries), plus a natural instinct to be clean, has ensured more-or-less socially acceptable smalls to this day.

Admittedly most women own a bra of shame or pants from hell, but even the less fastidious soul still changes their underkegs on a regular basis and a straw poll among girlfriends revealed that while they may wear the same bra for a few days (some up to a week), it's clean pants every day (or so they say).

Obviously nobody told poor-little-rich-girl Osla about getting hit by a bus because the 23-year-old star of Too Posh To Wash (C4, Tuesday), had worn the same bra for a year and the same pants for quite some time, too. Although she did turn the pants inside out after a while.

As if her grotty gusset and boggin' bra weren't enough to make us all go "Eeeew", the terrible twosome of Kim and Aggie (from How Clean Is Your House?) also showed footage of Osla emptying the contents of her nose and putting the "pickings" in her jeans pockets.

And her mate told us how she smells like dog poo.

All very entertaining I'm sure, but what is the point of airing posh people's dirty washing in public?

Osla wasn't ashamed, she just sort of sniggered all the way through.

She didn't promise to clean up her act.

And even the finale, where she got scrubbed up and presented to her friends and family all clean and fresh, didn't work, because she actually looked better as a minger.

Nice to see that Ray Winstone has taken off his old tights (remember 'Oim 'Enery ve eighfff, oi am?) and slipped into the sort of role that suits him best, i.e. looking big and very pissed off.

In She's Gone (ITV1, Sunday), Winstone played Harry Sands, a man who experiences every father's worst nightmare when his 18-year-old daughter Olivia disappears.

Apart from an alarming amount of huffing and grunting, he played the worried sick dad convincingly, pulling off scared and bewildered one minute, seething with anger the next, with ease.

Then there was the added complication of the daughter going AWOL not in the UK but in Istanbul while working for a charity during her gap year.

Filmed in dark tones and cold blues, it gave a sense of him floundering hopelessly in the dark. Or maybe it was so you couldn't see that they'd filmed the thing in Malta instead of Istanbul due to the Brit-ish Embassy bombings, which were deftly incorporated into the script.

Haluk Bilginer was very cool as the world-weary Inspector Yilmaz, who despite recognising Harry's bigotry, quite liked him and tried to help.

Aside from too much slow-mo camera tomfoolery and an inexplicably short appearance by Gary Lucy as Harry's son, it was quietly engrossing.

Oh but what a rubbish ending!

Two hours waiting for a grim discovery or a spectacular rescue only to discover that she hadn't run away after all but was in the Kurdish quarter of Istanbul playing with underprivileged kids.

Probably telling them to always wear clean underwear because you never know...