Lynn Enright: ‘With spring’s arrival, I’m finally ready to go back to real clothes’

All it took was a bed of purple crocuses, half trampled-on but resilient. I saw them in the park and took them as a sign. A sign of hope, a sign of new beginnings, a sign that I should start perusing bikinis online. For months now, I have worn the same thing: black leggings or very occasionally a pair of slouchy jeans; a flannel shirt or one of three jumpers; slippers or Birkenstocks. When I...