THE irrepressible Bet Lynch once declared, to a younger barmaid at the Rover’s Return: “I’ve got tights older than you, love.”

Those words came to mind when I heard that guests at this week’s Bafta ceremony were asked to “dress sustainably”. Hats off to the Duchess of Cambridge, who turned up in an Alexander McQueen dress she first wore in 2012, and Joaquin Phoenix, who collected his Best Actor gong in the same Stella McCartney suit he’s worn for several other awards ceremonies. But as far as I could tell, the dress code wasn’t adhered to by other A-listers snaking up the red carpet, (was the carpet sustainable? Has it been rolled out for other events?) working frocks and suits that looked eye-wateringly expensive and suspiciously brand new.

Along with the rather futile dress code, Bafta banned single-use plastic and swapped the usual goodie bags - traditionally packed with enough designer stuff to fill a 4x4 boot - for vouchers.

But the sustainability and carbon neutral thing is pretty meaningless when it comes to a glittering awards ceremony that relies on a large percentage of its guest list flying over the Atlantic, presumably not all on the same plane, and being chauffeured across London in large, fuel-guzzling cars. I’m guessing Al Pacino didn’t take the Tube to the Royal Albert Hall from his hotel, and I’m pretty sure Kate and William didn’t catch a bus from Kensington Palace.

Was all the make-up, and perfume, cruelty-free? Since many A-list actors get huge pay cheques for fronting adverts for cosmetic brands that use animal testing, I doubt it.

I guess Bafta should be commended for going some way to raising environmental concerns, but it was ultimately a token gesture. Hollywood’s finest will always pose in couture on the red carpet. I’d be impressed if, like Joaquin (who incidentally arrived at the Baftas shortly after joining an animal rights group on London Bridge to protest against factory farming, so at least he puts his money where his mouth is), they make a point of wearing the same outfit for successive awards ceremonies. But they don’t, do they?

When you have designers queuing up to dress you - and let’s face it, the fashion industry has a lot to answer for when it comes to consumerism and sustainability - you’re not going to turn them down in favour of that ‘pre-loved’ dress already hanging in your wardrobe.

Since I don’t have designers queuing up to dress me, I rely on the same small pool of “go-to” frocks for special occasions. I bought one dress for a funeral six years ago, and have since worn it to two awards dos, at least three parties, a fancy dinner and several holidays. I have pairs of boots I bought over a decade ago, a denim skirt that’s probably older than I was when I first got it, and jackets hanging in my wardrobe for so long they could be classed as ‘vintage’. And, like Bet Lynch, I probably have tights at the back of the drawer that may now be Generation Z.

I’ve always hung on to clothing I like. I grew up wearing second-hand clothes, passed down from older cousins and picked up at jumble sales, which probably gave me a sense of sustainability. My mum made many of my clothes too - how my heart would sink at the words “I can make that” as I nattered for a bat-wing top in the Freemans catalogue.

I would, of course, love a walk-in wardrobe or dressing-room (preferably the one Big made for Carrie in Sex and the City) filled with beautiful outfits, but I’d still hang onto clothes I liked. It’s what generations of women did before me, long before eco fashion was a thing.