I'm an urban housewife," I smiled, in response to question at Christmas party about what I did.

To his credit, instead of looking blank, or running away in the fear I would begin to talk to him about childcare and chintz, the man with whom was having conversation, topped up my glass and said it sounded interesting.

"What exactly does that involve?" he asked. "Curtain twitching and husband swapping?"

"Sadly not," I answered, smiling at husband of close friend (by definition my friend too) whose party it was.

"It's more to do with what it doesn't involve than what in actually does."

"Go on," he said, with masterful attempt at genuinely interested expression.

So I told him the term had been coined by friend Sara, who saw me looking in her direction across the crowded room and waved, sort of at me but more at man with whom was in conversation, who she obviously liked the look of.

Sara was, or rather used to be, a documentary maker for the BBC of the "highly valued, had her contract renewed loads of times, been to Afghanistan to highlight conditions of children there" variety.

But since having children of her own and becoming a freelance documentary maker, she found she spent more time vacuuming in frustration because her latest idea had failed to be commissioned than she did actually making programmes.

"I'm no longer a documentary maker," she announced one day. "I'm an urban housewife.

"I spend more time dusting my computer than actually working on it and more time looking after my own children that exposing the plight of somebody else's."

Out of moral support to my very good friend, I decided to adopt the expression too, rightly predicting that urban housewife got more of a reaction than freelance journalist.

And it made me feel less guilty about vacuuming when a deadline was looming or going out shopping when the deadline had passed.

"Urban housewives," I told the wine-pouring inquirer, "are a sophisticated breed of home workers, who combine family life with cutting-edge careers - such as journalism and documentary making - while boosting the economy of the place in which they live, by spending much of their precious time networking in shops and cafes."

By the time I'd finished explaining, Sara had made her way from the other side of the room, heard the tail end of above conversation and was holding her glass out, by way of introduction.

"Hi," she said, "I'm the original urban housewife."

"Extremely pleased to meet you," replied the man.

"I'm Tony."

He took Sara's glass and filled it, then put the bottle down so he had a hand free to shake her hand - which he held for rather longer than necessary.

After this brief exchange, Sara promptly dispatched me to go to talk to friend Lucy who she said was depressed - though actually she turned out to be extremely merry, having consumed several bowls of punch.

As I left, I looked back to see Tony give Sara her glass back and propose a toast.

"To the original urban housewife ... "