I admire stout oldies who, even in good times, refuse to put the heating on unless it’s absolutely necessary. They can’t under-stand why we younger, healthier people are fussing over our energy consumption right now. Do we not know there’s a war on?

Even the boomers appear to be making a token effort: stoking their wood-burners with sustainably sourced, locally grown logs; installing plush electric blankets in the spare bedrooms; stocking up on cashmere jumpers in tasteful shades of oatmeal. Let it not be said they aren’t pulling their weight.

I’m trying too, but as a pampered millennial, reared on a diet of cheap energy, frugality is hard. In particular, I’m failing to kick my bath habit. Most days I have one, although on some it’s two. I prefer a shallow bath in the morning, to gather my thoughts, and a deeper one in the evening, to drown them out. Occasionally I bundle my two-year-old daughter into the tub with me, but that is an altogether less tranquil, more aquatic experience.

I take inspiration from fellow bathers throughout history, from the Romans to the late Queen, whose morning bath was seven inches deep. She even had a bath installed on the Royal Train, and the driver knew to slow down around the time she was using it. The designer Tom Ford used to take four baths a day but has since limited it to one, at 4.30 a.m., which he enjoys with an iced coffee.

A bath used to be an inexpensive luxury, until Vladimir Putin put paid to that. Now when I take a bath I worry about how much it costs, although I am reluctant to find out the precise figure. The Germans are subjecting themselves to cold showers to avoid using Russian gas. Should I be doing the same for the sake of my country?

I’m ashamed to admit it, but the moment I hear grim news about energy prices rocketing, water being scarcer than ever and short showers being kinder to our weary planet, my first instinct is to turn on the hot tap, add a glug of aromatic gloop and fill the bathroom with suds and steam. I suspect I’m not alone in my secret energy shame. There must be others getting a dirty thrill from putting on a superfluous load of washing or making that extra cup of tea.

The powerful like to tell us to use less power. The government has launched its bossy £18 million public information campaign to remind us to behave appropriately when it comes to our energy use. I imagine the messaging won’t come out in favour of baths, which are traditionally seen as an indulgent and frivolous hobby for idlers. Rishi Sunak is clearly a shower man: in, out, in three minutes, max. Molton Brown, probably, or maybe Aesop if he’s attending cabinet that day. As for Volodymyr Zelensky, he probably doesn’t have much time to shower in between all the war-management and photo ops.

I’ll be in hot water, of course, when the energy bill eventually arrives. That’s between me and my God, though – or more specifically, my husband and British Gas. I’m trying to do my bit to mitigate the damage: turning off lights, lowering the thermostat a little, reducing the amount of cryptocurrency I’m mining. Maybe I could start lining the roof cavity with old copies of the Evening Standard, I think, as I turn the hot tap on again with my left foot.

There’s a case to be made that it’s not the government’s job to tell me how to use the gas, and I consider trying to make it. I like a household tip though, so I’ll probably take note of a few of the pronouncements (‘avoid the tumble dryer’) and ignore the rest (‘get a heat pump’), thinking that my paltry contributions won’t make much of a difference to global security anyway. Then I remember a story I saw on the BBC showing a satellite map of Ukraine, its cities darkened by Russia’s recent bombings, and I feel bad again.

The golden oldies will no doubt take the government’s advice more seriously. But stoic as they may be, they are also now elderly and more at risk from the cold. The Blitz spirit may warm the cockles, but that’s about it. They probably should be the ones using the gas this winter, even if it goes against their instincts. I’m told by one senior member of Liz Truss’s team that the reason the former PM was so opposed to advising people to lower their energy use was not so much because of her libertarian beliefs but because she recognised it could lead to a dramatic rise in the number of pensioners developing pneumonia and overwhelming the NHS.

It’s certainly going to be a difficult winter as we all work out what we can afford. Mr Money Saving Expert Martin Lewis’s advice is to ‘heat the human, not the home’, which seems sensible enough. I’m afraid, though, that building a wardrobe around heated gilets and electric insoles, as he suggests, is a step too far and destined to make us all seem ridiculous. We can’t give Putin that satisfaction.

The best way to heat the human is simple: a hot bath, followed by plenty of layers, a good jumper – cashmere if you must – and a pair of sensible socks. Right, where’s my towel?

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