A few years ago, I returned to my regular (i.e., once a year) clothes shop, Top Man, to buy some new jeans. Top Man was my retailer of chioce for jeans to the point that I had fallen for their store card which, as my credit card bulged, always seemed to offer space for new purchases.

On this occasion, I needed some new trousers and I was hoping that Top Man’s usual “2 for 1” off on their own-brand jeans would be available. I found the style and colour I wanted, but couldn’t track down any in my size.

I asked a Top Man man if they had any of the particular type of jeans I wanted in my (then) size (which, for my own vanity, I shan’t reveal). He explainde that they didn’t have any in that size; indeed, they didn’t have any trousers in that size because the didn’t make them that large anymore.

My initial shock (and embarrassment) aside, I wondered why, at a time when we’re being told Britons are getting fatter, a major high street chain would stop stocking what I at least consider to be only largish clothes. Using retail therapy to terat my bruised ego, I got myself a Burtons card and vowed never to return to the size fascists of Top Man (who, it turns out, are part of the same group as Burton).

Now I need a new pair of shoes. I went to Burtons in the middle of Edinburgh and was horrified by the paltry range. They only seemed to have shoes in vile shades of brown and the concept of lace-ups seemed to have been lost on them. Dismayed, wanting to use my Burtons card and realising the Top Man were in the same building a few storeys lower, I swallowed my pride and headed into the depths. At least my feet aren’t so big.

While being part of the same group as Burtons meant that Top Man would accept my store card, they also stocked a similarly small and unpleasant range of shoes. I realised my mistake. In future, I’ll go to a proper shoe shop for shoes and never to Top Man for anything.