Combinations of red and green are too obvious. Instead, try inky, midnight blue with lots of gold jewellery. Don’t wear blousy, voluminous sleeves (or gravy-catchers, as they are known in the trade). Don’t make impromptu accessories from tinsel: tinfoil is more “now”. Don’t wear anything corseted or tightly tailored; instead, choose a look that has some give, to allow you to feast, slob out and play Twister in comfort. Don’t wear a sexy-Santa outfit, as it will embarrass your children. ’Tis not the season to go knickerless. Don’t wear mohair, as it’s nasty and itchy, and snares crumbs, moults and gets up people’s noses. And don’t wear synthetic fabric: it’s a fire hazard. One spark from a dodgy cracker, and you’re toasted panettone.

How to be the best-looking person in the family photos

You could, if you wanted, make like a supermodel — lips pouted like a rare Amazonian puffer fish, hands on hips, stomach sucked in like a malnourished meerkat, while teetering on vertiginous heels. Or you could just get a nice Christmas Eve blow-dry and put on light-reflecting foundation. Other tips: black turtlenecks are universally kind to the skin. Face the window or stand in the door frame (black behind you is terribly flattering). Avoid smiling with teeth — very Hello! magazine — showing cleavage, and any dancing or lying-down-unconscious-after-too-much-food shots. And watch out for a wannabe Juergen Teller in the family ranks — your trip back from the lavatory with skirt tucked into knickers could become their magnum opus.

How to avoid organised fun

Christmas Day spent entirely on gorging, socialising and telly binges is the spiritual equivalent of McDonald’s. Which means that even the most controlling host or hostess cannot make a fuss about you going off to do something good. Visit a recently widowed neighbour, go to church or pop to the graveyard/prison/asylum for some quiet time with a fictitious (or, indeed, real) dead/crooked/disturbed relative. If you end up popping upstairs for a nap en route, that is your right as a virtuous person. Pleading an ache (tooth/tummy/head) so you can sneak a lie-down fulfils the same function but lacks the satisfying sense of smugness.

How not to feel guilty

Men suffer from gout; women suffer from guilt. A recent unscientific survey shows that female guilt — the feeling that nothing they do is good enough — is the source of 98.6% of Christmas strife. If you’re prone, don’t even start. Just don’t.

How to feel ike a seven-year-old

If Christmas is a game of make-believe — making believe that turkey is delicious, making believe that you like your family when in fact you only love them — then seven-year-olds are its past masters. That’s why they’re so fond of Christmas. To join them, awaken your inner child. Prepare Santa a midnight feast, then raid it drunkenly on your way to bed. Get up at 5am to open your presents, then complain when you’ve finished and nobody else has even begun. Fart loudly at lunch, laugh, then excuse yourself by choking on a parsnip. Eat all the icing from the Christmas cake, but not the marzipan, then the chocolate decorations on the tree, even though they’re five years out of date. Vomit. Then, when someone else lands on “Go” in Monopoly, throw yourself to the ground in tears. When the novelty of ruining everyone else’s day wears off, collapse in a heap on the sofa in front of The Snowman. What larks.

How to do an emergency stocking

Nothing matches the icy chill of realising that someone has made you a stocking and you haven’t done them one. Pay a visit to:

1 The bathroom, for an instant hangover kit, including Alka-Seltzer, Rennies and Solpadeine.

2 The living room, for the Argos catalogue, carefully circling the items you know they would most love.

3 The larder, for walnuts,

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