Now that August is upon us and the heatwave has broken, I am sure that the attention of all you ladies out there has, like mine, turned to your winter wardrobe. You'll have spent the last couple of months in flip flops and cool, cottony scraps, giving no thought to your attire bar whether or not it'll allow you to survive a bus journey without fainting. But now, cool dark evenings are fast closing in and you risk being stranded in the parched desert of summer practicality, denied access to the moist, fecund oasis of sartorial elegance that could have been yours but for the tiniest nubbin of forethought.

But once again the valliant, groundbreaking Observer Woman magazine has thought of everything the modern women could possibly be interested in. Along with articles on how Uma Thurman gets dressed, unusual ways to get pregnant and Fiona Bruce's great legs, it has sallied to the rescue with an extremely useful and witty article on all the things about women's winter clothes that men hate should we be ever tempted to repeat, as the article so plainly states, that summer crime of dressing as you please. From the very same man that gives us '25 things you shouldn't do within a month of moving in with a man' in the same issue (never telling him about your day at work and absolutely never seeing your ex or bringing 'attractive friends' to the house will surely temper that natural male inclination towards running off, whimpering about feeling suffocated, into the night), the cardinal rules of dressing to impress are reinforced.

Comfort, of course, is the big no-no. Whether it's round toed shoes over pointy or warm scarves over decorative, we are reminded that clothes ought to serve no further purpose than titilation. But my favourite group of tips are these:

No socks.
No tights.
No leggings.
No bare legs.

Just a little prohibitive, perhaps, but I am sure when it comes to looking attractive for men there's not much you wouldn't try to overcome. A nice pair of trousers are your best bet until next May, as long as you are careful not to look too 'impregnable'.

I'm sure you, like me, will find much in that style advice to give you pause. If however once you've sorted through your drawers and your cupboards according to the rules you find yourself with fifteen spare minutes to hand before your husband gets home and you have to remove your tights from the radiator lest he spot them, you could do worse than to sit down with a cup of something low-fat and flick through the magazine's innocently questioning and beautifully juxtaposed article about what causes women to very often feel such guilt over their vices and freedoms.