My colleague Lizzie believes she has the answer to Kendal’s traffic problems.

She says it’s not installing extra lanes, or interactive traffic lights - or even inventing flying cars. Instead, she claims highways bosses could have saved hundreds of thousands of pounds by bringing in beehive-shaped cycling helmets.

Her idea came about when we were discussing the current roadworks which have added 15 minutes to my journey in a morning.

“It would be much quicker to cycle to work but you wouldn’t catch me in a cycling helmet - they play havoc with your hair” she said, titivating her brunette bob.

“No, what’s needed is a helmet shaped to suit your hairstyle, with room for you roots to maintain volume. Imagine them - fabulous colours, encrusted with gems, the variations are endless.”

I remember getting my first cycling helmet. It was pink, white and hideous. But sometimes you’ve got to accept that there is nothing practical about fashion.

Take heels. The other week unions were calling for employers to carry out risk assessments on staff who show up to work in stilettos, platforms and wedges.

I once turned up at the Gazette in a lovely new pair of patent heels only to be sent out to interview a farmer about how he prepares his sheep for show season.

He greeted me at his farmhouse where two seats were positioned invitingly by the Aga, then proceeded to lead me outside and through three fields to look at his prize Texels.

I went home that night with weeping blisters and, worse, sheepmuck on my Kurt Geigers.

Now, unless a day at my desk is certain, I play it safe. But I often wish I worked in the city, simply so I could enjoy a more stylish wardrobe.

A friend has just moved from Kendal to work in London for a Government department. But the night before starting her new job she was mainly concerned about her first day outfit.

At 8am I sent her a text message wishing her luck and asking what she’d decided to wear.

“All in black but not as dull as sounds. Have shoulder pads and embellished ballet pumps. Curled hair too.”

A few moments later another text came through: “Need to remember I’m working for Civil Service not Vogue”.

I think I might suggest to Lizzie that she works in Kendal, and not Milan.