As a PR consultant, I’m naturally aware of the priceless opportunities that social media opens up. As a mother of three, I’m also acutely conscious of the more sinister aspects of the technology that’s now available to kids at the touch of a button. Last week, the eight-year-old daughter of a good friend innocently answered a call on Skype from a middle-aged man in Syria. He tried to engage her in a deeply inappropriate conversation before she had the good sense to call her mum. Scary stuff.

YouTube is an endless source of hilarity for my kids. But reading about the latest YouTube craze made my hair stand on end. “Room tours” are short video clips that feature narrated tours of kids’ bedrooms – cuddly toys and all. Girls as young as 12 are now using their cameraphones to showcase their bedrooms and belongings (often without the knowledge of their parents) to the waiting world.  The phenomenon is gaining pace, with the most popular clips attracting more than two million viewers.

Some might argue this is a valid way for young girls to convey their style and individuality. Personally, it scares the hell out of me. My daughter is only four, so  – mercifully – is not one of those subjecting herself/her room to a torrent of vicious comments from other girls and their mums sniggering over their choice of lampshade. And then there are the other, even more terrifying, risks. How many of those millions of viewers worldwide are not, in fact, nosey teenagers wanting to have a shufty at other girls’ duvet covers?  How many of them are creepy men who….. Actually, I can’t even go there.

YouTube is wonderful, funny, astonishing. As a family, we wouldn’t be without it. But there are some things I want to keep safe from its clutches – and my little girl in her bedroom is one of them.

Sometimes in PR it’s important to play the long game. This was a mantra shared by all at Peppermint this week when the team broke findings by Dr Michelle Harvie, a dietician funded by the Genesis Breast Cancer Prevention Appeal, which have been over two years in development.

The research, published yesterday, suggested that women can cut their risk of breast cancer by following a two-day a week diet.

Since the findings were released to the national media, Peppermint HQ has been a hive of activity and non-stop media liaison – in which time our infectious consultants have done their best to turn ‘phone juggling’ into the next Olympic sport!

After two years of discussions with Genesis, the results received widespread coverage on broadcast media, with specialist features appearing on North West Tonight. Blanket coverage also hit the newsstands today, with articles appearing in the Daily Mail, the Sun, Daily Express, Times.co.uk, Telegraph.co.uk, Mirror.co.uk and the Manchester Evening News.

At Peppermint, we‘re certainly no strangers to securing reams of coverage in the nationals – but this coverage is extra special to us. As the UK’s only charity entirely dedicated to the prevention of breast cancer, Genesis has the goal of making one in ten (the current number of women suffering from the disease) none in ten. The buzz of generating coverage that could potentially prevent certain cases of breast cancer is one of the best rewards we could ever have.

As my birthday is now a month away (hint hint), I thought it was high time I started compiling a present list. At number one, my most-wanted item: an iPad. Adverts for the device, which first went live during this year’s Oscars ceremony, proudly show off its 9.7 inch high res screen, which can be used to read iBooks, use iTunes and do some iWork.

Yesterday came the news that, from December, Vogue magazine – fashion’s number one barometer – would make its editions available via iPad. Although Vogue is the first fashion magazine to ‘size zero’ its content onto a tablet device, the publishing world is no stranger to digital distribution – and certainly has no qualms about charging for it.

The Times is already available on iPad, for £9.99 a month – a significant saving on the equivalent cost of buying print editions, and it’s rumoured that all-conquering media mogul Rupert Murdoch has plans to establish a tablet-only newspaper in the near future. Speaking last month, Murdoch said: “I think we’re going to see, around the world, hundreds and hundreds of millions of these devices… we’ll have young people reading newspapers.”

I hate to admit it, but he might have a point. I’m sure loads of teens would take a keener interest in current affairs they were was presented to them on something shiny. In this digital age, it’s no longer enough to just read about Ricky Hatton’s indiscretions. We need to see them, hear them – pretty much experience sensory overload whilst getting the news. With the print sales of newspapers in constant decline, some are hailing the iPad as the publishing world’s saviour. Me? I just think the Scrabble app looks pretty snazzy…

This month, the gong must surely go to Be Brand who is responsible for creating an ad for the Costa Brava featuring a photo of – wait for it – an Australian beach, crudely photoshopped to look ‘more Spanish’.

Yes, some bright spark thought it would be a good idea to buy in a nice Perth seascape photo from Getty Images – complete with Aussie husband and son looking out to sea – and then superimpose a bit of Catalan on their t-shirts.

Why? Why? And again, why? There’s no denying that the marketing industry revolves around showing our clients in the best possible light – but on what planet does that translate into passing off a location at the other end of the globe as the Northeastern coast of Spain?

What a spectacular PR own goal for the Costa Brava tourist authority who now look to all the world as if the region has not a single decent view to recommend itself. If its tourism industry was flagging before this little debacle, it surely will be on its knees after it.

Looking at our own projects for the coming month, I wonder what would happen if we employed the same approach? Might we dispense with images of an office development we’re promoting and use pics of the Rockerfella building instead? We might well decide that clothes from our fashion clients aren’t hip enough and just borrow some shots from Marc Jacobs. Or, if we decree that the heads of our client companies aren’t sufficiently photogenic, we could perhaps lift a photo of Brad Pitt and photoshop a corporate logo onto his shirt. The possibilities are endless.

As if a global recession were not sufficient cause for anxiety, I’m now faced with another pressing challenge – that of knitting a jumper for our two hens, Peppa and Minty.

You see, eight-year-old Louis spotted a photo of ex-battery hens sporting hand-knitted jumpers this week in The Times.  He immediately begged me to knit a similarly warm and attractive gilet for our own birds. 

Frankly, when we decided to give over half our garden to hens and their mountains of poo, I didn’t expect that my responsibilities would extend to crafting hand-made garments for them. Mind you, neither did I expect to find myself, Jodie Kidd-style, frantically driving round neighbouring streets searching for the hens after they disappeared. Fearing the worst – that the foxes had finally got to them – I almost broke down with relief after discovering them three hours later. There they were, scratching happily around the garden of a very bemused elderly lady who lives across the road.

The funny thing is, a little part of me (just a little mind) actually rejoices at the thought of knitting a hen-jumper. I think it’s the prospect of someone actually wearing something that I’ve knitted – publicly and without protest.  My record of knitted gifts is not a happy one.  The first attempt (since knitting a single bed sock at the age of 12) was a forest green scarf three years ago.  My eldest son Max refused point blank to even try it on.  I then presented it to Louis who welcomed it as the most beautiful gift ever.  When a cold snap descended, I was finally able to proudly offer him the scarf to wear to school. He said: “Oh no Mummy, I couldn’t possibly wear such a precious thing to a busy place like school. I’m going to keep the scarf in a special box to remember you when you’re dead.”

Undeterred, I’ve gone on to knit a number of projects including: a cushion cover that has languished unfinished for 18 months; a rather peculiar pink ‘wallet’ for my daughter; and a further five scarves. The last of these – a burgundy-hued anniversary present for Jean-Philippe – took six weeks of fevered knitting.  The first time he wore it, a ten-year-old local kid approached him and asked pointedly why he was ‘wearing a girl’s scarf’.

So, if anyone has any easy-to-follow instructions for knitting a hen waistcoat, could you please forward them to me?