Juliette Lewis

Hillbilly murderess, sleazy rock chick, pervert Valley girl, pubescent tease; Lewis is all of these and more. A past-master in the open-mouthed, coquettish sideways glance, more importantly she is in possession of such a honeyed, cigarette-hewn, Californian drawl they could bottle it and serve it on the side at House Of Pancakes.

Of course, the key attraction is Lewis’ down-pat reputation as a perpetually teenage rebel (thrice-divorced – from her parents and also a husband) and rock ‘n’ roll diva. Loose-limbed turns in Natural Born Killers and Old School preceded her reincarnation as a full-on, stage-diving, one-woman-tornado front for Juliette And The Licks, a band that could support Blondie at CBGBs in the ’70s just as soon as someone sorts out the tricky time-travel problem.

Occasional slips into androgeny-overload notwithstanding, she is never more impressive than when ladling on dollops of sinewy sexuality – think heated moments in Cape Fear and From Dusk Til Dawn, where she gets away with playing girls much younger than herself. Uh-oh. Dangerous territory.

Olivia Colman

Well-regarded hereabouts as the frumptastic object of office affection in TV's excellent Peep Show, you don't need to be desk-bound to appreciate Colman's understated, scrubs-up-well-eh? luminance or that playful sauciness which underpins her every performance.

That cute overbite aside (shown off to best effect in the "We used to have one of those" line from those bloody Bev-Kev AA car insurance ads), Collie (as she is affectionately known) has a certain girl-next-door attainability which sees her grab all the plum ladies' roles in the rep theatre of modern British comedy. There's certainly no other reason to sit through the 100 minutes of drab hilarity that comprise Confetti (and even the promise of nudity doesn't excuse the terrible stink that film leaves behind). And, gawd though it hurts, be thankful that she was involved in Bruiser, 'cos it's where she met all the people who cast her nowadays.

Further pitch-perfect performances include the slutty cop in Hot Fuzz, the dowdy secretary in Green Wing, and the Judith-Hann-one in Look Around You series two. But time will never dim the moment she (as Sophie in Peep Show) finally lured Mark into her bed for a lovely cuddle. Form an orderly queue, lads.

Erin Gray

It's been said before but it bears repeating; no young boy ever watched Buck Rogers In The 25th Century for the witty dialogue, fantastic effects or convincing action scenes. It was, naturally, the sight of Col. Wilma Deering in a red Lycra one-piece that guaranteed a Saturday night audience on ITV (the BBC offered only posh piece Lalla Ward as a companion to Dr Who). Model-turned-actress-turned-feminist Gray filled the role both admirably and surprisingly leanly for the '80s (there wasn't an ounce of surplus fat inside that space suit). Who wouldn't take her on for a bit of rough and tumble in the L.A. scrubland which doubled for the polluted futuristic outskirts of New New York? There was always that moment, usually just at the end of an episode, when the stoic Deering would finally give in to the wisecracking Buck and bestow a radiant, beaming smile. Worth waiting for.

Sometime around series two, the convincing military uniforms were dropped in favour of what can only be described as roller-blade diner waitress chic, and her hair turned from honey blonde to chestnut brown. When the scripts lost themselves in study of a similar hue - much pottering around with aged scientist William Hyde-White and a retooled Wilma Deering as damsel-in-distress - the fun faded and the show was axed. From thence, Gray went on to make Silver Spoons and a hundred guest appearances in Magnum P.I., The Fall Guy and other such mundane Glen A Larson fare.

However, for a while there, Erin Gray was the second most-sexy Wilma on the telly (after Mrs Flintstone, obviously). Bi-di bi-di bi-di.

Rachel Weisz

Astonishingly adept at maintaining a balancing act between unassuming yet well-spoken bit of posh, and heaven-sent goddess-next-door who just so happens to like the footy, Weisz' radiance in front of the camera has taken her from that BBC-produced My Summer With Des business to Hollywood blockbusters like The Mummy with minimum effort.

Jewish by birth, with faintly exotic Eastern European looks, she first caught the eye in Stealing Beauty, although the demands of the role were confined to outburts of off-hand bitchiness and some topless sunbathing. By the time she won an Oscar for The Constant Gardener, she'd played everything from con artist to crap girlfriend but by far her most endearing quality is a desire to avoid the red carpet paparazzi madness of celebrity. You're just as likely to find her hurrying back from some Primrose Hill coffee shop as you are to see her quaffing champagne at a Beverly Hills premiere. Plus, she's self-confessedly scruffy, so it's hard not to picture her tucked up in a ball on the sofa one Sunday afternoon, watching an old Elvis film and wearing nothing but an oversized jumper and the remnants of a hangover.

Raven of hair, luscious of mouth, and full of bosom, Rachel Weisz was (according to the director of About A Boy) the most popular girl at Cambridge. Everyone wanted to ask her out on a date. Quelle fucking surprise.

Marilyn Monroe

Endlessly idolised, mawkishly mourned (Elton John spoiled it all) blonde bombshell of the black and white era. More likely to inspire gay role models than lookalike women, at least since the 'Fifties ended. Although reportedly a curvy size sixteen (American measurements, actually just over a British twelve), a bewitching screen personality, all wide-eyed innocence and breathy exasperation, did most of the work.

Additional points for a) will now never get any older and, b) carried an air of the tragic ("It's better to be unhappy alone than unhappy with someone - so far" - all households should own a copy of In Her Own Words), desperately trying to be accepted as a serious actress. Her perfect role was as Sugar Kane in Some Like It Hot, playing sexy and funny, but with sadness and resignation bubbling under the surface. A winning combination.

Monroe is also rightly famed as the world's most photographed woman (stylish student walls apply the Chanel No 5 advert, though any poster which prints the name of the subject - and one of the world's most instantly recognisable icons, to boot - should be avoided). All the more reason to keep looking. Plus, she went for geeky men; imagine if she'd been born in the Internet age, eh? Now that's a tragedy.