Can you believe it’s February already? Sub-zero temperatures and exchanging cheap teddies hastily bought in petrol stations. For me it means just one thing - renewing my car insurance.

You may remember that I recently purchased a new car. This all happened over the phone with a dealership. I secured a good price for old Colin as I "forgot" to mention the cigarette burns and damage to his bumper.

I drove off the forecourt in my shiny, little red rascal howling maniacally, convinced I’d been victorious against a faceless, corporate giant. Until now…

“What do you mean it’s a sports model?!” I yelled at my insurer. “The garage said that car would be like for like insurance! It’s got a 1l engine! My hairdryer’s got more power!”

“I’m sorry, Miss Lofthouse. The fact is, if you stay with us your premium will increase by £16.90 a month.”

“That’s two packets of fags," I spat. "Not that I’d ever smoke in the car, of course…”

Sixteen pounds! I couldn’t afford that! I have to budget VERY carefully each month. I’m still paying off an electric bill from nine years ago at £2 a month. I’m so bad with money I have the direct number to the managing director of every collection agency within a 240-mile radius.

I did a quick meerkat search seeking a cheaper quote but my current provider came out on top. Damn you, Aleksandr!

So I had to find an extra £16 a month. Should I cut down on the smoking? No, I need those for my nerves. Buy less wine? Ah, the nerves. Sell the kids? I don’t think anyone would part with that much money for my two. I caught them washing their hands in the toilet the other day then donning helmets and head-butting the fridge, but that’s a story for another time.

“Sell some rubbish on eBay,” My mate advised. “You’ve got loads of shoes you don’t wear.”

I tried to convince myself that ‘one day’ I would lose enough weight to squeeze my ever-expanding feet back into those flatforms I bought in 2001, but deep down I knew my Spice Girl days were over.

I needed around £200 so begrudgingly listed a few pairs of my finest Principal, Topshop and George specials. Pretty soon I had an offer for a pair of Souliers. £250?! I couldn’t believe it! Did I even have some of those? I had Miss Selfridge and Select, yeah but those? I inspected the advert and in my error I’d clicked the wrong manufacturer - they were actually a pair of black, suede brogues purchased in the sale at B&M.

It wasn’t long before I received a message: "These are not Souliers!"

I’ve forwarded a pair of George slipper socks to say sorry. I hear they’re so comfy to drive in.