How Aunty Kath unwittingly fed my addiction and now we are all doomed

You may not know this about me, but, I have a weakness for patterned ceramics (no, really).

Look! It's the Frankencrochet squares! I made a cushion for the kitchen! (Pine cones also courtesy of Aunty Kath)

When I say a weakness, I mean they make me twitch and reach out greedy grasping hands. I just love patterns. When I was young and we never had any money (violins), my mother would not let me buy anything with a pattern on because she said I would have to use it a lot and I would get fed up of it. Well mother, despite the fairisle cardigan incident where I do concede your point, you were wrong wrong wrong, and if you had let me buy that duvet cover I wanted in Atkinsons in Sheffield circa 1987 I imagine I would be an actuary with a labrador and an Aga by now. I love all pattern. I love modern Scandinavian. I love mid century modern. I love brown and orange 70s clichés. I love Denby Arabesque. More than all of those I love Orla Kiely. When I decorated the kitchen last year on 3p, a spit and a polish, I felt I was morally justified in buying new mugs and I wanted Orla Kiely ones. Readers, the moral anguish I went through trying to justify to myself the cost of those mugs. I calculated the cost many different times with my translucent blue calculator. I compared prices. I googled. I ebayed. I decided in the end it could not be justified and I bought coloured ones at a quarter of the price from John Lewis and I was almost content.

You see how the colours work together? I really really don't need to buy any more of the AMAZING PRINTED MUGS. Please stop me

Then at Christmas, Aunty Kath bought us two Orla Kiely mugs. Two mugs! I carried them home with pride and delight. What I should say to you now is, look how well those mugs go on the shelf with my coloured John Lewis ones which tone very nicely. Now my patterned ceramic itch is scratched and I will never want patterned ceramic mugs again but will be content and will turn my mind to higher things. I will read George Monbiot columns in the Guardian to the end and not give up half way through and make biscuits. This is what I should say. The unfortunate truth, however, is that Aunty Kath has, however innocently and kindly, provided the Patterned Ceramic version of Crystal Meth and now I want More. More! It is like Toblerones to Alan Partridge, Curly-Wurlies to the Vicar of Dibley, men who have married their own horses to Jerry Springer, turtles to that strange man on Emergency Vets. I cannot be trusted. I cannot leave well alone.

And actually, Aunty Kath also bought us that toaster

I convinced myself I needed a ‘special new container to put the herbal tea sachets in’. Readers: I did not need it. I wanted it. And now I find myself googling Orla Kiely mugs once more, in case in the year since I last looked they have fallen in price to 50p each, or in case there is a special offer of 80% off which is only available to, say, people who have successfully lived with medieval latinists for more than 10 years. They have not. There is not. But I do not think I am strong enough to resist buying another couple. So many wonderful patterns! {Twitches}.

I may need lots of little ceramic containers to keep all my spices in?

Besides, I just know that if I just collected a few more mugs I could give it up. I know I could. I just need those mugs first. And we’ll pretend I never even looked at the cute little red jugs because honestly where would it end? Rehab and embarrassment. ‘Hello. My name is Susie. I’m a mugaholic. I started off not being able to decide between patterns, and now we can’t get into the house and I’ve had to sell next door’s cat on ebay to fund my habit.’ Tears, outstretched arms. ‘I’m admitting I need help.’

Marimekko do mugs as well. I’m just putting that out there. Please someone, stage an intervention.