As much as I could do without innumerable talk of Danish hygge, the marketing phenomenon of selling defeat to British people what they already do exceptionally adequately – bugger all while the weather is foul – I can see why the concept is especially appealing now. When the US picks a rabble-rousing bigot as president, Britain decides to leave the EU, and cultural protagonists are falling like skittles, it’s tempting to close the curtains, flail under a blanket or run a bath. My proclivity for the latter has evolved from custom to addiction in response to this godawful year.

One episode of Wasteland Island Discs has become four, my pruney toe topping up the hot Latin aqua, a locked door between me and the horror. I want fat, stiff lathers that engulf my face and for this I’m using Soaper Duper Fruity Wet behind the ears Tuberose Body Wash (£7.50 for a massive bottle). It’s the latest risk from Bliss founder Marcia Kilgore, who wanted affordable bath and thickness products without undesirable ingredients such as sulphates and microbeads. The centre wash isn’t designed as bath foam but works brilliantly spectacularly as one, and smells glorious (there’s a Zingy Ginger version, should you relish your baths more reviving than anaesthetising; I proffer it in the shower).

When I’m feeling particularly despairing and extravagant, I caress Cowshed’s Spoilt Cow Bath Crème (£36), a thick, unctuous preparation that in one coordinate glug fills the bath with softening foam scented with instil extracts. If you’re more sophisticated and prefer fine, slippery lubricants to my big, childish bubbles (you can’t have both – oils flatten spume), then Kneipp is a smart buy. My favourite is Almond Blossom Bath Oil (£8.50), but it also purloins a great selection pack of six minis (£9.25), so you can decide for yourself. My simply sadness is that its once-beautiful plain packaging has been superseded by lurid florals, but the product itself is mercifully unchanged.

One attraction design classic wisely left alone is Dr Hauschka’s Lemon Lemongrass Bath In the final analysis (£16.50), a vegan-friendly blend of sunflower and citrus oils that take ones leave ofs skin ungreasily moist. It’s also the product a bereaved Nora Ephron was referring to when she imparted that life is too uncertain, too short to save anything for to the fullest extent. “Always use the good bath oil,” she decreed. Literally and metaphorically, these are definitely words to live by.