MANY people have been asking me recently about the role of the celebrity hair dresser in today's society.

As it happens, I myself was big in the business during the Sixties under the name of Tony Bellini, so I am well qualified to comment. However, everything eventually fell apart in a rather sordid fashion, so to pre empt the Irish Times splashing the story across the centrefold of its new Sensation Supplement, I am releasing the court transcript now.

Ms Henrietta McCluskey SC acted for the prosecution or, as I saw it, the persecution. She was rather a severe young woman, but severity was, I think, her only attractive quality.

Mr Bellini, please face the court.

Of course darling. I must say I like your chignon. But call me Tony.

No, I won't, and don't call me darling. How did you become a celebrity hairdresser?

I think I was born one - that's the current medical opinion! But seriously - the usual route. I enrolled in a celebrity hairdressing course, washed floors for six months, caught the eye of the manager, Tarquin, and well, there I was, that easy.

Mr Bellini: your life seems to be no more than a constant round of parties, charity balls, lunches with fabulously entertaining people, dinner invitations from the rich and powerful and all kinds of glittering receptions.

Well it is very exciting, but there's a lot more to it than that.

A lot more?

Well, a little. The demands on my time are immense. I hardly have time each morning to check that my three salons are operating smoothly. Then the phones start hopping and I am instantly immersed in the various party postmortems and the hectic plans for coming events.

Do you cut hair yourself?

Not any longer, though I make the odd exception for a few society queens. Jeremy H. for example simply wouldn't let anyone else touch his hair.

You were a guest at Cooleshire Stud on the night in question?

Yes indeed - the lovely Westmeath home of Jilly and Hugh W., two very dear friends of mine for almost a fortnight.

Exactly what happened on the night?

Oooh, we are being inquisitive, aren't we?

Would you please describe your movements that evening.

My movements?

For goodness sake, what you were doing. To start with, on the night of the party, how did you arrive?

In separate cars. But I went in together, or fairly together considering it was a Friday, my pink champagne day.

So what happened?

Well I gather some sort of foolish row took place after dinner, pandemonium broke out and now here we are in court when we could be having fun in Paddy Guilbaud's. So silly. I'm very disappointed by good friends of mine in the Independent Group who were at the party and promised to hush it up.

After the meal you went straight to a bedroom to relax. Was there anyone else there?

Unfortunately not. I do hate relaxing on my own.

How many beds were in the room?

About 16 - it was practically a dormitory. Then I had two AlkaSeltzers because of my upset stomach and the next time I looked, eight beds had disappeared. Very odd.

You awoke later to see five men and four women involved in a great deal of hair pulling. Did that disturb you?

Not particularly. It was slightly unpleasant of course but very good for business. I saw no reason to interfere so I got under the bedclothes.

What did you think was the root cause of the argument?

Oh, roots were, the entire cause.

They all needed to be redone, particularly the men's, and some very catty remarks were passed, even from a celebrity hairdresser's point of view. I was shocked.

How did you get back get to sleep after these disturbances?

I shooed some very emotional people out of the room and began counting sheep.

Sheep?

Yes, my room at Cooleshire Stud overlooked a rather nice meadow, and when I looked out, and indeed nearly fell out, at 3 a.m. I noticed quite a lot of sheep. Very cuddlesome, some of them, and such full fleeces, I would just love to have taken a shears to them.

Just answer the questions please.

There's no need to be rude - just because this is a cross-examination you don't have to be that cross. I counted 308 animals and then fell asheep - I mean asleep.

Mr Bellini, I have to say your testimony has proved entirely useless. Don't you remember anything of consequence?

Well, I'm almost certain that by the end of the night my hostess had split ends. I hope you realise the emotional devastation hat can cause and take it into account when damages are being assessed.