I would ban juicing in January. Totally. Prison for all juicers. For anyone skulking around Holland & Barrett looking for spirulina or chia seed or stevia or aloe vera; anything that looks like it might be excreted from a snail. In fact: no detoxing whatsoever. On New Year’s Eve Gwyneth Paltrow would be escorted to a secure location, to resurface only in February.

I would also force the food companies to write warnings on nearly everything: packets and jars and tins: “Invisible sugar in this food is addictive and will make you fat and sick”. Or: “You may as well give your child a cigarette as feed them this, because the long-term health consequences are as severe”. And added hormones in meat and milk would be outlawed. We have enough super-size children hitting puberty at the age of eight already.

In each store there would be a greater variety of fresh, unadulterated, affordable food and drink to outweigh their additive-ridden, vitamin-deficient counterparts stuffed with secret sugar. With real food filling our supermarkets, and fake food labelled accordingly, we wouldn’t need extreme food obsessions in January.

My flirtation with juicing began on 1 January 2014. “If it looks like Angel the hamster would eat or drink it, then it’s healthy. It’s good for your insides,” I told my suspicious children, handing each a glass of green slime. For three tiny servings, the juicer had devoured 20 quid’s worth of organic vegetables, but I was determined to ply the kids with micro-nutrients. And then I tasted it myself. I felt dangerously nauseous, my children hated me, and I was miserable.

The outlawing of detoxing would ensure no more: 1) people feeling dizzy, unable to concentrate or drive; 2) running to the toilet with diarrhoea, a consequence of the three cucumbers, the pack of spinach, and the 17 sticks of celery it takes to make each shot; 3) making daily trips to foodie Borough Market for vast quantities of vegetables; 4) taking painkillers for the headaches and stomach cramps this diet causes; and 5) even thinking about juicing raw kale, which tastes so rank I can lose weight now just remembering it.

“Instead of all this weird health juice,” my 10-year-old asked, “can you make it your new year’s resolution next year to have fun? Having fun is much better for your insides.” A clever girl, my daughter. The kind of wise courtier a queen would want around.