Yesterday I was reading a blog called the Selfish Mother and came across an article that appeared in the Guardian called “Why I won’t dress like a mum”. I was laughing until I realised she was describing me. Almost. I had recently ordered yet another hooded coat for the winter, a funky one from J Crew, in my defence; and I had also ordered a grey cardigan and jeans from Boden. You’d think I lived in the middle of nowhere, not Manhattan. I find clothes shopping in NYC utterly exhausting especially with J in tow, so I’ve pretty much stopped doing it now.

So when the Boden parcel arrived today I tried them on, thought ‘oh f***, she’s right, I look terrible: get a grip’ and promptly sent them back. Then I remembered how much I loved Cos in London’s Regent’s Street and how I’d read that recently they started selling online in the US. So I ordered four tops and a funky necklace. My only concession: they all had to be washable (I am a mum, after all). And then I looked at high top trainers on Zappos (amazing US online shoe store) and am still pondering whether I’m just too old. I’m not. I think. I might have stepped back from the brink. Just.

There’s a lesson in there somewhere.