Trolling the homeopathic approach, we seek to normalise the engorgement by ramping up our fix. My favoured holiday ritual typically includes: a Joan Crawford movie binge, a vodka Martini dance-off accompanied by a flight of luxury crisps, the illogically mournful A Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack, leftover re-congealed baked brie for breakfast, goodwill to all men, an elasticated waistband. After such Neroic over-indulgence, the new year can’t come fast enough with rash promises to our inner monk to hereafter live simply and limply, renouncing our sordid gluttony. Fat chance.