THE first thing I noticed about the X Factor judges on Saturday night was that they all had poppies pinned to their clothes. Even Cheryl Cole’s fashion monstrosity had been accessoried with this poignant and patriotic emblem.

That’s the thing about the poppy. You can wear it any time, any way and it never looks out of place.

And indeed, as we build up towards Remembrance Sunday and Armistice Day, purchasing one of these papery red flowers from a local poppy seller is the least we can do as an act of commemoration and gratitude for our liberty.

In return, The Poppy Appeal raises much needed funds for The Royal British Legion, the nation’s leading Armed Forces charity .

The problem is, in our rush-rush daily routine, it’s so easy to side step a poppy seller, or mistake one for a ‘chugger’ — those charity workers who are often likened to muggers as they try to ambush you on high streets and get you to donate from your bank account rather than giving cash directly.

But the etiquette of poppy sellers has always been quite different: their time is limited to a few weeks of pavement pounding, they do not deploy the hard sell and they are a conduit through which the nation can remember the fallen and express its gratitude. And unfortunately there are plenty to remember.

Indeed, the 2009 Poppy Appeal is emphasising the need to help the Afghan generation of the Armed Forces and their families.

Even if you deplore the Government’s stance on this conflict, every flag-draped coffin should remind us of those innocent men and women caught up in the conflict.

How utterly ridiculous then to hear that the Institute of British Fundraising has decreed that poppy sellers cannot shake their collection tins in case they are seen as a ‘public menace’.

Asking anyone if they want to buy one and even approaching people has also been declared illegal.

Instead, volunteers have been told they must remain still and silent or face being removed from their stands or prosecuted. Meanwhile, ‘chuggers’ can hassle you to their hearts’ content without fear of retribution

Poppy sellers are only a fixture in our calendar for a miserable few weeks, peppering our streets to raise money to provide emotional, practical and financial help for the serving and ex-service community .

It is simply political correctness gone bonkers to consider that rattling a tin somehow constitutes a public menace.

Ask any ex-Serviceman or member of the Afghan generation what a public menace is and the jangle of small change is unlikely to compare with roadside snipers, landmines and car bombs.

Only this week it was revealed that Cambridge University will allow female Muslim students to wear burkas at graduation ceremonies and in examinations.

Surely this constitutes more of a public menace, in terms of security risk and even fraudulent exam candidates? Yet this expression of female oppression is acceptable but being a little proactive in raising money for the Armed Forces is not.

The beauty of the Poppy Appeal is its elegance and simplicity. By wearing a poppy we are saluting the sacrifice of those who fought on our behalf. As such this little flower is an eloquent salute to courage.

Courage which the spineless jobsworths at the Institute of British Fundraising are so clearly lacking.

Heather's admirable (really)

HEATHER Mills is about as popular as a dose of swine flu. An alleged gold-digger, fantasist and Linda McCartney imitator, it`s little wonder that the former glamour model is routinely castigated for her behaviour.

Then there are those of us who always felt she shouldn`t have been allowed within an ASBO of Sir Paul. After all, the man is an icon, a national treasure, a legend (and my all time idol…sigh). You don`t mess with Macca and try and hang him out to dry. So its not surprising that few people would spare the time to offer Mills the steam off their tea.

And now, rather than sit back and count her multi-million pound divorce settlement, Mills is hoping to reinvent herself through reality television. After tackling the U.S. version of Strictly Come Dancing, she is hoping to appear in the ITV celebrity skating contest, Dancing On Ice. In response commentators – particularly female newspaper columnists – have been quick to sharpen their claws.

In the scheme of things I should be joining them. But when I saw pictures of Mills gingerly learning to skate at her local ice rink, I had the strangest sensation. And then it hit me. I actually admire what Mills is doing.

It reminded me that this is a 41-year-old woman who lost her leg after being knocked over by a police motorcycle in 1993. Yet though there has been much bitching about the way she has marketed that disability, the fact remains that she is disabled. And it hasn`t stopped her doing anything – be it dancing, Beatle chasing and now skating.

We may feel like shooting the messenger with this one, but to do so would sacrifice the message. That catastrophic disability needn`t stop anyone doing anything if they set their heart to it.

However much this woman sticks in the throat, it`s worth remembering this.