You know the naked dream, the one where you’re standing in the middle of a Paris Fashion Week catwalk with nothing but an iPhone to hide your modesty?
I’ve had that three times this week.
Weighed down with anxiety following 10 months of maternity leave and what feels like a lifetime of trousers with expandable waistbands, my head is a breeding ground for style dilemmas (is it still socially acceptable to wear frayed hem jeans and, worryingly, does Phoebe Philo’s departure from Céline spell the end of office track-pants?).
A quick audit of desk mates (a new novelty) confirms that it’s not just those returning to the land of al desko lunches who find themselves anxiously scrolling through the “new in” section of Net-a-Porter during the wee small hours.