As it appears that the weather gods have decided we are not going to have an autumn this year, getting dressed each day in 30-plus degrees and 1000 per  cent humidity has become very, very dreary. Almost distressing.

I just don’t know what to wear anymore in these temperatures. I know what all the other (younger) women are doing. They are in active wear and strappy sundresses, and cut off shorts, and strapless tops. But I can’t/won’t do that.

I am an older person who does not feel “body positive”, and who doesn’t like to show any flesh – not my upper arms, not my cleavage, or my boobs, my back, my legs, and certainly not my midriff.

The heat really gets to me. But neither do I want to walk around in thin cotton Indian kaftans and call it quits. I really like clothes. I like layers ,I like accessories, I like clashing fabrics and textures and I can’t do any of that when there’s perspiration sliding down my face five minutes after I get out of a cold shower.

I was sharing the pain with a colleague this week as we sat in a very swanky up-market restaurant and sweltered through a three-course meal because the air conditioner was struggling and it was too hot outside to open a window.

“Ahh, I have to go to a black-tie event tonight, what am I going to wear in this heat?” I whinged, as she nodded in agreement. We started to reminisce about clothes that made us happy, comforted.

“Oh, the minute the weather cools, even slightly, I’m in a winter coat “ she said wistfully.

“Imagine a day where we could wear a knit,” I said.  “Like, a  cardigan day!”

If we get a cardigan day in Sydney, even a thin cotton cardigan day, in the next two months, I think it should be considered an official holiday. I’m making jokes here, but it is a constant and sobering reminder about climate change and how the world will cope with rising temperatures.

Later that day, I went to collect the friends with whom I was going to the evening event, and they too were struggling with their outfits.

For black tie I would normally opt for an evening tuxedo or a jacket and dress, but given it was 35 degrees at 6pm I instead went for a short-sleeved satin top and satin trousers and looked pretty ordinary.

But my male friends were already sweating in their stifling, long-sleeved white shirts and ties, The mere thought of putting on a wool blend dinner jacket … revolting!

“I don’t think black tie should be a dress code anymore” said my friend, mopping his forehead while I was dabbing my face with a silk blotting paper as my foundation pooled under my eyes.

He was right. Unless it’s in the depths of a winter we may or may not have, I don’t think the old dress codes are cutting it anymore. There probably needs to be just one code: weather appropriate.