The perfect cycling raincoat

I am self-employed. This means that any excuse is good not to do any work.

I've had my own studio to work in for the past year, but have hardly used it. Getting a bike changed all that - suddenly, the 30 minute walk turned into a 10 minute exhilarating ride, and I found myself heading to the studio every day. My productivity has been high, and my chronic back and head aches have all but disappeared.

Now that October is rearing its ugly, wet little head, I look at the skies with a mixture of resentment and anticipation. Is it going to rain? Do I get an excuse to sit in bed all day, with my laptop warming my belly, ignoring the croaks and groans of my abused back muscles?

A cycling raincoat has been high on my list of must-have bicycle accessories. It had to be cute, bright, waterproof, and hooded. Oh, and cheap. Is that so much to ask? Look, Kate Hudson has one:

It's Burberry, apparently, so completely out of my price range. But look how happy she is, clutching that giant water bottle, ready to provide her own rain if necessary.

Raincoats seem to be one of those elusive things that only briefly appear in shops in February, when all you want to buy are summer dresses and open toed shoes.

Even the internets failed me. Googling raincoats is dangerous business. Do not search for "Shiny red raincoat", unless you are into erotic pictures of semi-naked ladies prancing about on the beach. Oi. You. Come back here. I am not finished.

I did find this:

Isn't it cute? A snip at £17 from La Redoute. I wonder if I could fit in their biggest size? I mean, 12 year olds are pretty bulky these days.

Pfff, fine. How about this:

From some obscure French brand specializing in all things Breton-striped and waxed. So obscure they haven't answered my enquiring emails.

I even considered this Boden "Urban Mac" for a while:

But then I read this review left on their site by "Fifi" (!!!):

"Such a great coat. When I tried it on for my husband he summed it up "It's great, it looks like you haven't just given up afer having children!" I will feel flash on the school run."

Oh Fifi. Fifi, Fifi, Fifi. Here. Have a giant water bottle.

In the end, dispirited and frizzy-haired, I settled on this from Uniqlo:

Less than £20, on sale, and it's given me the perfect excuse to sit in bed all day: I have to wait for the postman to deliver it. Bliss.