A few weeks ago I had a meltdown in a boobtube-trouser-suit-onesie from Sainsburys. The tags were still on and I was looking at myself in our landing mirror, pretty pleased with myself. I didn’t think it was a bad purchase really. Granted, I was possibly egged on by the many encouraging pictures of Gok Wan in the changing rooms. I bought the thing in a vain attempt to add some pizzazz to my wardrobe. ‘What do you think?’ I asked my husband, hoping for some Gok-esque reply of ‘Yeah girlfriend!’ He looked up from his desk in the study and said nothing at all as I gave him different angles and poses in the doorway to trigger some sort of response. Not a dickybird. He was obviously speechless – and not the good sort of dumb, I don’t think. I promptly burst into tears.