I’ve never felt more sorry for men than during a heatwave

It’s hard to make sensible choices in the heat, when every additional degree melts another brain cell.

- OLIVIA PETTER

At least, that’s how I’m rationalising everyone’s wardrobes over this past week. And when I say everyone, I’m afraid I actually mean men.

Let me start by saying that I understand it’s hard for anyone to pull together a sentence, let alone an outfit, during a heatwave as intense as this one. On the rare occasions I’ve managed to tear myself away from my fan over the last few days - for urgent purposes only, like to buy loo roll, dark chocolate, or remind myself how to talk to anyone besides my indoor cat - my eclectic ensembles have been a cross between something you'd see on a toddler and a middle-aged English teacher who spends her weekends learning witchcraft.

I'm talking baggy pyjama shorts and white vest tops that have yellowed from overwashing. Bright pink Lycra shorts with another formerly white, now yellowed crop top. And an oversized Def Leppard T-shirt from their 1992 European tour, paired, inexplicably, with leopard print leggings.