AN EVENT of truly momentous proportions took place last week. My wife went back to work. After 15 years of being a stay-at-home wife and mother, raising four children along the way, her time on easy street is over.

With the eldest reaching 15 and the youngest hitting eight, she decided it was time to get a part-time job and make a long-awaited contribution to the household finances. Oh joy, oh joy.

And to her enormous credit, she got the first job she applied for - working three days a week in the sponsorship department of the local council.

I was so chuffed at no longer being the only breadwinner that I bought her a big bunch of flowers, sat back and looked forward to her first pay cheque.

And that's when it started - the shopping spree: "Obviously, I'll need some new clothes for work," she gushed with excitement.

Since then she has proceeded to buy more new outfits than the Queen gets through in a whole calendar of official engagements. Never mind the first pay cheque, it'll take a year's salary to cover the bill.

She's now worked for two weeks and has come downstairs every morning in yet another new blouse and skirt. That's six new outfits, not to mention the assortment of new shoes. One day soon, she'll come down in an outfit I've seen before and I'll choke on my scrambled egg with the shock.

In fact, finding a sponsor for her restocked wardrobe might be a good way to start her new career.

The weekend before she started her job, she was in the bedroom trying on her new purchases, deciding which ones to keep and which to take back for a refund. I wasn't around so she had to ask Christopher,15, for his opinion on which of two black dresses suited her most.

She modelled both and waited. Poor Christopher, being an apprentice man, couldn't tell one from the other.

"Is it just that you've put your necklace on the outside with the second one?" he asked, thinking it might be a spot the difference competition.

Pressed for an answer, he plumped for the first one.

"Why do you prefer that one?" she asked.

"Dunno - just do," he grunted, starting to perspire under the pressure.

"There must be a reason. What's wrong with the other one?"

"Nothing, I just like the first one more. It's just nicer."

"Well, I like the second one," she said, finally, without giving a reason.

Later, I did my best to explain to him that this was simply a test all males have to learn to cope with sooner or later. I told him there are six key points to bear in mind when women seek an opinion on clothes they've bought:

1. When they ask you to choose between two outfits, remember they've already made up their own minds so they're really only looking for confirmation.

2. Never ask how much an outfit cost because a) they'll think you're tight-fisted b) your nervous system might not be up to it and c) whatever it cost, it's bound to have been a bargain.

3. You're not allowed to merely say you like one outfit rather than the other. You must give a reason, such as it goes better with her shoes, jewellery, hair or complexion. Even if you don't know, just say something which gives the impression you've thought it through.

4. Be on your toes for the "What's wrong with the other one?" question. Whatever you do, never suggest she looks slimmer in one because she'll immediately demand to know if she looks fat in the other and then you're dead in the water.

5. You're almost certain to get it wrong so opt for the one you like the least because that's more likely to be her favourite.

6. They don't trust your judgement anyway so it's a completely pointless exercise.

"I think I'll go for a lie down, Dad," he said when I'd finished. "I don't know how you cope."

It could have been worse. She could have got a full-time job.

P.S. And now with my tongue extricated from my cheek, the moment can't pass without adding another word to mark my long-suffering wife's 15 years of washing, ironing, cooking, getting up in the middle of the night, helping with homework, nurturing, teaching, caring and generally doing a brilliant job: "Thanks."

Published: 11/08/2005