I’ve never really thought of M&M’s as having a gender when they disappear from the packet and head straight to my thighs. Sure, I’ve felt sorry for the odd Lindt bunny, sitting there sadly after Easter with its ears viciously chewed off. I have even side-eyed my friend who used to wear the little red Lindt bunny bell as an earring in some kind of sadistic urge leftover from tribal times.