You can change practically anything about yourself these days, from your appearance through to your gender. But one thing remains practically immutable: your birthday. And here some of us are markedly less fortunate than others, as those of us who made our entry into the world in early January well know. Having a birthday at this time of year means that, in birthday terms at least, you have drawn a very short straw (and it probably won’t have a cocktail attached).

We early January babies already face quite enough dampers on our celebrations without the addition of a prohibition clause

The first difficulty is simply party fatigue. This was less of a problem when I was growing up than it is now. Then, with rationing still a family memory and nothing like the choice now available in supermarkets, Christmas was something akin to a super-Sunday – with a roast chicken, all the trimmings, and a home-made Christmas pudding, lubricated perhaps by a glass of Bristol Cream or ginger wine. New Year was for Scotland. Other countries did fireworks.

The excesses of today (think M&S food advertising), with tables groaning under the abundance of every possible delicacy and bottles galore, now leaves a large part of the population with both a collective hangover and a guilt complex about overindulgence.