I'm just so crap at it. I hate going shopping - I need someone to prevent me from becoming depressed and buying loads of shapeless monstrosities that are better suited to old ladies that I buy for myself because I'm too scared to try on fitted things because I will have to face up to being fat.

My best mate, Claire used to perform this valuable service for me - she was so patient - 'here, try this on - no really it'll be flattering' 'I'll go and get you a bigger size' etc etc while I groan in misery at the indignity of not being able to get into a size 14 (or sometimes even 16) anymore. She's moved away and I'm lost without her. I've reverted to the shapeless horrid things pictured above. She's not there to say 'try this - you'll look great in this'. I really trust her judgement and no-one else will do.

The awful thing is I know I'm doing it and I just can't stop myself. So, once again this summer I'll be walking round in vile sacks, in vile colours that I hate - what a complete fool I am.