In case you’re wondering what these two items of clothing are made of – it’s corduroy. Yes, that’s right, a trouser suit of salmon pink corduroy. If you saw it in a charity shop, you’d pay £10 just so they didn’t make you take it. It is this sort of nightmare apparel that gave the 1970s such a bad style legacy, even though under 30s seems oddly drawn to this kind of hilariously appalling nonsense.

Presumably it is this market for whom Alexa Chung (mostly famous for posing with her arm stuck out and crossed ankles, pouting) is designing in her new collection, featured in a recent Observer magazine. Except that most under 30s probably don’t have a random £565 weighing down their bank account for the jacket or a spare £325 for those lovely trousers. That’s a total of £890 to look like this.

Imagine buying this then trogging down through your local town centre, hoping for admiring glances since you’ve shelled out the thick end of £1,000 on this ensemble. Then further visualise the actual looks you’d get from the usual mob of slack-jawed blank-eyed locals loitering outside ‘Spoons with their 11am lagers and steaming up Costa’s windows with their frappy lappy mochy wotevs. Admiration may not be the key ingredient of the plebian gaze.

If you can’t stretch to a fortnight’s average salary for this get-up, how about a wicker bag on Alexa’s quirky (ie, irritating) website? It’s slashed to half price from £105 to just £52.50 which sounds financially viable if you’re a fashion fiend. But it’s MADE OF WOVEN PAPER. The handle looks like it would support a single small avocado, a tub of houmous and one lip balm before unravelling.

I fully acknowledge that a woman north of 50 years old who remembers the horror of original corduroy in the 1970s is not her target demographic. I am also not among her 3.1 million Instagram followers and neither was I one of the 50,376 people who ‘liked’ a selfie she took in a toilet mirror. I have a handful of Instagram followers and achieve sometimes as many as 10 ‘likes’ for a picture of a beautiful English rural view. I can’t understand where I’m going wrong. Must be the cut of my (non-corduroy) trousers.