I blame the Trimphone. Before this trilling, anorexic nuisance arrived, telephones were made of Bakelite and came in black or grey. That was the sum total of choice available. The Trimphone changed all that, seducing us with a bewildering range of alluring colours. It fooled us into thinking it was sophisticated by turning up on TV in Simon Templar’s bachelor pad. Since 1966 the choice has got much worse. If you don’t believe me, try buying a mobile phone.

Less discerning readers may think this is a fuss about nothing. But it’s important to get these things right. You can’t march into Carphone Warehouse and buy just any old phone. That’s an abdication of your undeniable right as a consumer to have the maximum possible choice and to be frozen into immobility by too many options.

This problem of choice permeates modern life but seems especially prevalent in the world of communication. BT is forever ringing me up to flog an increasing number of discount options - friends and family, friends and mild acquaintances, friends and people you don’t really like very much. When I suggested I pay extra to receive fewer choices, they seemed miffed that they hadn’t thought of this option.

Choosing a computer is far easier. I stick with Apple because there are only 4 models. But I don’t need an Apple iPhone (only one model available) so I’ve been forced to delve into the jungle of online reviews and mobile phone shops.

Something simple would be good. I have a camera, thank you, and if I want to listen to music on the go I’m quite adept at humming.

One website lists 166 models of mobile phone in their pay as you go section. They go from £4.95 for a bog standard Sony Ericsson to £1250 for the Motorola Aura. No, that’s not a misprint. It comes with a sign you hang round your neck which says “mug me” in big, friendly letters.

Some of the facilities available are baffling even for an unreformed geek like myself, for example:

- music player, presumably to drown out Vivaldi’s Four Seasons when you’re put on hold

- camera, so you can take pictures of yourself to check if mobile phone radiation is having any visible effect

- games so you have something to play with if you can’t get a signal

- Global Positioning System, so people know which train carriage you’re ringing from

- pedometer to check how many miles you have to walk to get a usable signal

- accelerometer, to see how fast it was going when you threw it at the wall because it lost connection

- touch screen, see games, above

- flip / slide / rotate opening mechanisms, to introduce an exciting element of mechanical vulnerability and potential failure to an otherwise reliable electronic device.

The list is not quite endless but it certainly goes on for a bit. I only really wanted to change phones because my current one is suffering electronic dementia and keeps forgetting all my contacts. At this rate I’ll be joining it before I’ve found a replacement.

Someone once told me they bought their phone “because it was pink.” But what was the technical criteria, I asked. “It was pink,” she replied, as if this was obvious. I’m beginning to think she had the right idea. Perhaps the best solution is to do a BT. Reduce your options to just one friend. Then invest in a couple of tin cans and some string.