Not only did they dress us in non-gender-specific children’s clothes in the 1970s, but they put us in kid’s attire. The adults wore different outfits to the children. Mum had her Maggie Thatcher outfits and her Peter Paul and Mary numbers and Dad had a great line in ties. Neither of them wore any clothes that resembled their childrens’. This was the outward representation of a genuine generational difference that just doesn’t exist any more. You are never too young or too old for Top Shop these days - or indeed to go clubbing, judging by recent expeditions to Brighton.

These were the thoughts that filled my mind as I set off to get some new gear from Lazybones for the twentieth anniversary of my 21st birthday this week. When will I dress sensibly as appropriate for my status as a middle-aged mother of three? When will I behave in such a way as well? When exactly do I turn into my mother? The one thing that stopped me beating myself up too much is that I am not alone. I am certainly not the only 1960s baby to suffer this Refusal to Age condition. The whole Rolling Stones/Peter Pan thing is huge. We just stay post-graduate forever. My heart lifted when I got to the boutique and saw their Autumn collection. I left with a pencil skirt and scarf with a skull and cross bones motif (very big this season I gather). Beats a pension plan any day.