Unexpected item in bagging area

Anything which makes one look this triangular is deeply unfair on the pear-shaped.   And if your mum's migraines are phototropic, she can be felled by the merest flash of this blouse from under your coat.

Presumably designed by Isosceles O'Humbug for River Island.  £28.

Ah yes, the venerable tartan of the Battenbergs

I think this is a plaid more suited to the coats of little Scottie dogs to make them look jolly and a little less like the ravening mad bastards they are.  And indeed this lady looks quite prepared to take a nip at the postman's backside now that she's wearing this thing.

This damned knit will enrage even the most mild-mannered librarian, and certainly it's making me want to leave teethmarks in the designer's ankles and shelve all the large print Mills and Boon in Home Carpentry.

Asos, £31.50.  It's in the sale, which comes as a terrible surprise.

So you've come as a trapezium?

Well, I'm going to work as a stellated icosahedron tomorrow.  If we must duel, my weapon of choice is a Platonic solid.

This model is looking petulant because she has just been told off for wearing Daddy's shirt.  How is she to know it costs THREE HUNDRED AND NINETY-FIVE POUNDS AT WHISTLES?  I wrote that in big letters because only upper case is sufficient to express the enormity of offering for sale this insult to a lady's silhouette.

Pretending to be a person many times your size comes in a bit expensive these days.

Target practice

This lady does not deserve to be shot in the back, but if she will insist on appearing at the battlements dressed in this, she is very likely to have some sort of unpleasant missile flung at her by a trebuchet.

I think what worries me about these low-slung t-shirts is that they're so difficult to match with anything.  Your coat must be at least below the length of the shirt, because otherwise you'll look as if you're trailing something.  And a dramatic inset pattern like this must be on show, so a cardigan is out of the question.  What an awkward, awkward garment.

Unless, of course, you're a knight?  Why not wear this as a surcoat over your shiny armour as you prepare to breach a castle or joust the afternoon away?  Gauntlets optional.

Urban Outfitters, £60.

Go home and show Mummy. Wait...maybe don't show Mummy

It's that time of year when small children decorate calendars with gold-painted pasta shapes and get over-excited with Pritt Stick and shiny paper.  How charming, then, to find a, a, whatever this is, inspired by a childlike love of arts 'n' crafts, where bits of tin foil are stuck liberally to the first object to hand.  Well done, Lucy, but do give back the glitter to Mrs Trumbull before Asos arrive and ruin the Lovely Afternoon We're Having!

Eighty barefaced, shameless, flagrant pounds.

And now, two minutes' silence for style, which died today

This lady looks remarkably unconcerned that there is a trilobite crawling over her shoulder.

I do feel that the ruffle is rather going to get in the way of things, although it will be a very good place to save the canapés for later.  On further reflection, however, marine arthropods are perfectly capable of securing their own snacks from the buffet, although the pickle fork may present some difficulty to a prehistoric creature unused to modern manners.

River Island, £60.  They'll throw the rest of the dress in for free.

How to Ruin a Perfectly Good Frock, No 173

Perhaps this looked like a good pattern at 3 o'clock in the morning to the hard-pressed designer, fag in  hand, colouring pencils at the ready.  There is something arch and oh-so-knowing in that jarring scalloped band of black and polka-dot arrangement at the hem, but it is of course the dark stain of sin slowly engulfing the floral loveliness above.

The Island of Doctor Moreau has things less freakishly conjoined than this dress.

Miss Selfridge, £45.