It’s actually Tuesday.

A brilliantly sunny, cold day, the chill coming in so suddenly- no warning, no transitional ease- that it makes you think of the worst. What if the weather turned the way our normally genial cat would suddenly turn from picture-perfect cuddliness to possessed, rabid psycho with razor-sharp claws?? (We’ve never clipped them, the better to defend herself, we’ve rationalised).

Well, I thought, glancing at the clothing racks filled with last season’s coats and jackets in the spare bedroom turned walk-in closet, at least we’re prepared. Last year was so strange that we didn’t do a spring clean at all. The coats and jackets have stayed put instead of being stored in the bins we have for winter clothing.

So which one is suitable for olive, wide-legged cargo pants and silver New Balance 1906s? The checked bomber in Italian wool? That waxed cotton jacket, perhaps in navy blue? Another bomber, but a shiny black aviator-style in flight nylon?

I could still smell last year’s scents on them- Replica’s By the Fireplace (my favourite, until I got three bottles at the same time as gifts and got sick of it); D.S & Durga’s Debaser, which I liked better than Diptyque’s Philosykos; Prada Pour Homme which smells like rain at 4am.

None of them seemed suitable and I wore a thermal hoodie instead.