By Catherine Portland

Everyone enjoys overindulging at Christmas; it's a non-negotiable part of the festive season and there is no point feeling guilty about having to loosen your belt (again).

However, once the traditional binge is over and you survey the wreckage left by the unrestrained guzzling - the chocolate wrappers, mince pie containers and mouldy crumbs of Christmas fare, nicely garnished by jokes from crackers and the contents of party poppers - you may begin to contemplate the toll excess has taken on your body.

It is advisable to avoid this level of self-awareness if at all possible. Everyone should take mirrors down on Christmas Eve, if you ask me. Trinny and Susannah, but especially Trinny, should be banned from TV schedules, digital as well as terrestrial, and anyone who gets one of their books for someone as a present should be sent with it to the nearest skip.

However, given New Year is upon us, avoiding the pressure to make healthy resolutions is almost a lost cause. Even if you take my excellent advice, you're probably going to encounter your own reflection in some sweaty, heaving retail establishment or pub over the coming days and weeks.

Thankfully, shop mirrors are kinder than the ones we have in our bathrooms and hallways - they want us to buy their products after all, and seeing a skinnier version of our gorgeous selves when we try things on in the changing room makes us more likely to splash out than the brutal reality of our not-so-lovely lady (or gent) bumps.

Poor old Gary Barlow of Take That fame is among those of us feeling the seasonal pressure, confessing he is reluctant to eat the expensive goodies given to him by celeb friends. A source told Britain's Daily Express newspaper: "They are all great hampers but Gary wishes he didn't have so many. He joked his wife would have to keep them away from him."

Once dubbed the 'fat one' of the group, it is not hard to see why Gary is wary of his hampers' dangerous allure.

One wonders whether his wife, Dawn, shares his concerns.

Presumably she agreed to hide the hampers, if he did indeed ask her to, raising the wider issue of partners and weight.

In an ideal world, our partners would love us whatever our size. For many, this is the case. Most relationships worthy of the name function on more than a superficial level and we fall for a whole package rather than the enticing exterior.

However, several of my girlfriends are under no illusions that if they gained a substantial amount of weight, their men would be out of the door before they could say 'Slimfast'.

Others have piled on the pounds within the comfort zone of a long-term union and are still happily paired off.

There is no obvious conclusion. But the one factor common to all of the friends whose boyfriends would dump them if they went up a couple of sizes is that they have chronically low self-esteem.

So, corny as it sounds, maybe it really is easier to love someone who, at the very least doesn't hate, herself - whatever her measurements. Maybe those statistics that both sexes obsess about aren't so vital after all.