A couple of weeks ago, a dreaded but necessary trip to Primark etched itself onto my lunchtime agenda. I have to be honest, despite the occasional indisputable bargain and an unwavering devotion to their adorable Disney pyjamas, I loathe the place. But much to my dismay, my stiletto nails found themselves embedded into my tights two hours before an important client interview and thus a new pair was an essential purchase. If there’s one thing I loathe more than the absolute chaos of Primark, it’s a laddered pair of tights. After battling the hordes of shoppers to the lingerie department, I managed to grab myself a pair and make a…