Mel & Sue on "womance" and their new chat show

“I think comedy has become very tribal and worryingly sectarian,” Sue goes on. “There are some FANTASTIC female comics who are doing really well and they have been labelled ‘feminist comics’ and therefore a small section of male comics have decided to react against that and do material that is provocative and incites almost hatred against women, where the word ‘rape’ is a punch line. And that is to their discredit and to their shame.

“And, actually, some of the women who are deemed feminist – well, they are feminists – are making beautiful shows and telling incredible jokes and it’s never been a better time to be a young female comic. There is a list as long as my arm and they are absolutely jaw-dropping and I’m delighted because it’s what you’d want... younger, better versions of yourself!”

The two ping-pong a list of women, of whom I recognise three – Sarah Millican, Miranda Hart and Shappi Khorsandi (below). “We’re talking about women doing Edinburgh, which is the crucible of comedy. When we were doing it [they were shortlisted for the Daily Express Best Newcomers gong in 1993],” Sue says, “there was just us and Jenny Eclair.”

I wonder whether the “rape humour” can be blamed on a sort of backlash against the successful women comics – isn’t it more to do with society at large?

Sue: “I think it has to do with the culture of pornography and the fact that pornography has twisted gender relations so hugely that intimacy has been put on the back foot and, instead, everything is out there and women are pieces of meat. “Pornography implies that women are there to be abused, and they love it. And it’s important not to demonise men – because they are as affected by pornography as women, and they have huge pressure to perform in this grotesque, unemotional, robotic, macho way – and it destroys the fabric of love and intimacy. And also diversity – because the vast majority of human beings are slightly lumpy and slightly misshapen and all the more gorgeous and interesting for it – but not if you watch pornography.”

They think Page Three is a ridiculous affront. “I actually thought it had been banned,” Mel says. “I don’t read The Sun and I was amazed that it was still there.” Sue mentions her support of the No More Page Three campaign. “I think it will stop, but not because of political pressure – because people will say, ‘Isn’t that a bit stupid?’ It’s almost because of the rise of pornography that people will see it as a quaint sort of silliness.”

Mel: “I think people see it as quite sweet – ‘It’s cosy, isn’t it?’ – which I find spooky.” Sue: “Page Three takes up space where news could be – and, God knows, we live in a time where there is an awful lot of news. It’s childish and prurient and stupid and it annoys me.”

Mel and Sue on The Great British Bake Off

Mel is a peace-maker in this interview, as emollient as her voice – which is incredibly soothing, like a honeyed, hot, milky drink. Sue, in contrast, has a deep bark and – to extend the canine analogy – is as scrappy as a terrier. On tape and on paper she appears to find fault in every other question and is so combative that she almost ends up arguing with herself, like a dog chasing its tail. In person, however, she is mostly funny and fun to be with.

In a lighter moment I ask when she last wore a frock, and she admits it was just the other day but only for a joke, when a stylist friend popped round with loads of dresses from a shoot, and persuaded her to try on “a tiny black Moschino dress”. Her bosom is as perky as her name, I say, and Mel sighs: “It has ever been thus.”

Sue: “I know – I have gravity-defying jugs. It’s weird. The rest of me, however, is sinking to compensate – soon I will be able to kick my own buttocks.”

Which reminds Sue that she had an appointment with a medical consultant the other day. “He said, ‘I can give you something for your problem but there’s no medication possible for your terrible Bake Off jokes. You should both be ashamed of yourselves,’” Sue repeats sternly. “This is a consultant!” She whoops with glee.

“Good man,” Mel grins. A particularly touchy area is relationships. Mel is married to TV director Ben Morris, and they have two daughters, Florence (who’s known as Flossie) 12, and Vita, ten. Sue has been in relationships with men and women but defines herself as gay. She doesn’t like talking about her partners, but they seem to like talking about her.

All that she will tell me is that she is with someone now: “I just don’t talk about it to anybody, but I’m happy and I’m fine, thank you.” Imagine my surprise, then, when the day after our interview I see her glossily posed on the cover of a newspaper supplement with her partner, TV presenter Anna Richardson (above).

Sue is more revealing about her washing-up philosophy. She was recently away from home for four-and-a-half months, making her BBC2 documentary about life along the Mekong river.

“Travelling is extremely hard and it takes it out of you, but it also takes it out of your relationship,” she says. “I am very aware that when we go to work, the people that love us have to carry an awful lot of the slack.

“You need to have a supportive family and what I try to do, when I’m back from my travels, is – I take the strain. I think, ‘I am now going to be loading that dishwasher for six months.’ Because I’m very, very aware that in a relationship,” this said with deadly intent, “both people have to load the dishwasher.”