Lesson one: buy what you love. In an ideal world, we would all skim across the glittering surface of life in adorable clothes that make us feel cherished, alluring and clever. Lesson two: take time to buy what you don’t love. Sometimes you need a basic that will sit just so under a jacket without rendering you a mummified corpse. Or a pair of shoes that go with everything, don’t cripple, but aren’t actually, technically, trainers. Or a bag in which to transport your laptop. These are the Unlovable But Functionals.

Logically, UBFs should be a joy, unburdened as they are with the usual freight of guilt, in-built fashion obsolescence and does-my-bum-look-big-in-this neuroses. Then again, it is precisely this unemotional detachment that can make buying UBFs such a perfunctory experience. But guess what? Tough. Sometimes it pays to invest in stuff that doesn’t make your heart soar. It may seem counterintuitive, but it works. I happen to find snakeskin about as appealing as psoriasis. I ruled it out of my life for years, which could explain why, despite having acquired an unseemly number of shoes over the years in an unlikely array of colours and textures, I often didn’t have any to wear. Even metallics let you down sometimes – especially where thick, dark tights are involved.

Now that I’ve finally acknowledged the missing link, filled it, and experienced the thoroughly accommodating nature of snakeskin shoes, I’m falling in love with them. They could turn out to be the wardrobe equivalent of an arranged marriage – tiresome initially, but a rock in the long run. And think how exciting an unsuitable liaison with someone incompatible can be. (If you’re concerned about the sourcing of snakeskin – and you have every reason to be since, according to the RSPCA, “there is little known about the method in which farmed snakes are slaughtered, which causes concern, as it can be difficult to kill snakes humanely” – then opt for “snake-effect” leathers and synthetics.)

Other UBFs include white shirts; plain skirts (you may yearn to wear patterned ones but know, deep down, that they make your thighs look the size of Alaska); black trousers (boring but useful, and so much more slimming that those gorgeous pale-grey silk ones); Birkenstocks (ugly, but you know your feet will thank you) – you can create your own list. Maybe you still think animal prints are as classy as a hen night in Blackpool, but a little zebra or cheetah stops a too-tasteful outfit from teetering into a coma – and animal-print accessories look good with both black and brown.

Perhaps metallic bags for day seem trashy or mutton-dressed-as-lamb, but they go with everything. I happen to think chunky platforms and cone heels are intrinsically less beautiful than stilettos, but a thick heel makes legs look slimmer. Similarly, big rings make clunky hands look more elegant; and plain, flesh-coloured bras can look surgical but work better than prettier white, lacy ones under semi-sheer clothes and tight T-shirts – I could go on, and doubtless you could, too. The solution with all UBFs is to turn them into something a little less ho-hum – a flesh-coloured bra in tulle and the prettiest skin shade you can find; Birkenstocks in silver or eau de nil and always with a pedicure. Lavish care on UBFs and you’ll be amazed how lovable they can be.

Explore Women

• Fashion

• Beauty

• Diet & Fitness

• Relationships

• Families

• Celebrity

• The Way We Live

• Horoscopes

Times recommends

• Live chat: Thrifty ways to update your winter wardrobe
• Is anybody out there really listening?
• Nutrition Q&A: Will eating late make me fat?