I rather like the first day of proper office life after everyone has come jetting back from their Tuscan villas and Turkish yachts or come crawling out from under soggy canvas in the wet English countryside. For me, September 1 is the proper beginning of the working year; much more so than January 1 when it is dark and everyone is grim, hungover and on a diet.

In September, children mark the fresh school year with new shoes and new pencil cases; I’ve always thought office workers should treat it in the same way, marking their willingness to be keener with a shiny pair of back-to-work brogues or a nice new pen.