Christmas dressing is synonymous with glittering, shimmering fabrics and sumptuous textures made for dancing in, but after spending the best part of the year in leggings and not brushing our hair most days (just us?), to suddenly don the usual festive get-up feels a bit challenging.
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I woke on Tuesday at 4am and could hardly breathe. I was sweating (and, post-menopausal that I am, I never sweat) and racked with worry. I grabbed my hair, put my head in my hands, and said out loud, ‘What am I doing? What was I thinking?’