The only time I looked, I found the most hideous coat that I absolutely hated the moment I saw it in British Homes Stores.
It was when houndstooth coats were the height of style and I really wanted one - in black and white, short length, with a collar, belt and cut to flatter - I didn't have a coat at the time and I was cold going to school, so I'd decided a proper coat that also happened to be in fashion and would also look good over jeans would be a brilliant present to ask for.
What she pointed at was fuchsia pink tweed, collarless and shaped like a bell tent.
She'd asked me what I thought of it in BHS and I'd tried to not be a brat, saying 'You like pink, don't you - can we go and look in Tammy Girl next?' where I'd pointed out the ones I liked, rather than saying 'That is probably the most hideous thing I have ever seen and combined with you chopping off your long, thick hair on your 40th birthday for a one inch long bubble perm, will make you look like an angry pink weeble visible from Space'.
I had to go through a fortnight of knowing that I was going to get the revolting coat - I tried to convince myself that she'd bought it for her own use, especially because it was size 16 when I weighed roughly 7 stone 4 and was about 5'1" (or in her description 'huge and fat').
On Christmas morning, the Coat of Horror was there for me. And as she made me put it on and I stood there with this gigantic pink monstrosity billowing out and the dog thinking I had a new tent for him to hide under, she came back into the living room. Wearing the same coat in size 20.
'Look! I've got one too - we can match!'.
It was bad enough having something that she then said was the only coat I was ever going to have as there was 'plenty of room in it' (no shit, it was big enough to act as emergency housing for a family of five, of course a standard sized 12 - 16 year old wasn't going to grow nine inches and put on 8 stone) and 'I'm not getting you another coat, you don't wear the one you already have' until I got a part time job at 16 and bought a cheap jacket with my £12.47 a week wages.
But the fortnight of knowing it was there and being unable to do or say a thing about it was the worst bit by far.