By Mary Carr

Copyright evoke

It must be a sign of our harshly competitive and image-conscious times that, of all things from Maria Steen’s short-lived and intense Presidential nomination campaign, her handbag became a lightning rod for criticism rather than her behaviour.

Granted, her blue Hermès Kelly bag, presumed the real deal with an eye-watering value of €20,000, is no ordinary accessory.

But Maria’s a wealthy woman, and wealthy women like luxury labels. Surely it’s more honest if Steen owns her expensive tastes, rather than carrying a humble River Island holdall on the campaign trail to appease us plebs.

It’s the least of her sins, compared to the offence she causes, reminding the public at every turn that she is a mother of five, has a husband and a wonderful family. Good on her, of course. Would we all could be so lucky? Maybe I’m old school, but I think crowing about one’s private life is as bad-mannered as braying about being a high earner, getting a first-class degree from Oxford or anything else that’s considered enviable or noteworthy.

If most wannabe Presidential candidates started down that road, their advisers would tell them that with half the population on the minimum wage and most students excluded from the dreaming spires, they were being obnoxious and tone deaf.

Even though when it comes to public life, academic and professional achievements are relevant, indicative of work ethic, cleverness and so forth.

But what is the relevance of family size to a statesman or stateswoman’s suitability? How many of us know – or care – how many children Michael D has or any of the Presidential contenders from Sean Gallagher to Dana?

Of course, Steen’s five children are actually shorthand for her family values and traditional Catholicism. Like the US conservatives who are weaponising their religion for political purposes, she is leveraging her big family as part of her brand.

She belongs to a movement that seeks to make their private lives and religious beliefs part of their CV and intrinsic to public life, places where they have no business.

Also, for a woman whose devout Christianity is deemed central to her identity, Maria’s insensitivity to those less fortunate is surprising. How must women undergoing the anguish of fertility treatment feel when she pipes up about her brood?

Or women who missed the boat because they couldn’t find a man who would make a good dad, or hadn’t enough money to make a decent home for a child? Or who long for another?

Of course, there are women with no interest in having children – but there are more women who must come to terms with it over many years.

As Maria would put it, I have been ‘blessed’ with children, but I still cringe when I hear her, not just on behalf of childless or child-free women but from my own experience waiting years to conceive. Procreation is not always a choice; no amount of polemic about it being God’s plan, or truisms about the preciousness of family life, changes that.

Maria Steen would do well to remember that for her next campaign, whatever that is, rather than worry about a silly backlash to her handbags.