MY wardrobe is under attack from all sides. I've mentioned before how my wife's burgeoning collection of clothes has led to her commandeering half of my wardrobe.

More and more of her garments are spreading, like the creeping death, from her wardrobe into mine.

I often feel like screaming at the gross unfairness of what's happening. We have a wardrobe each. They're exactly the same size, so why should she invade mine with multi-coloured, ridiculously-expensive dresses, skirts and tops?

It started with one or two, then expanded to six or seven, and now she's more than halfway across.

But much as I'd like to protest, the truth is that I don't need as much space as in the past - because my clothes are being stolen by the kids.

It' s a kind of pincer movement. My wife attacks from one side - gradually squeezing me out of my own wardrobe - and the kids launch a sneaky assault from the other by nicking anything they fancy.

"Dad, have you got any jumpers I can have?" asked my 15-year-old daughter.

For some bizarre reason, men's baggy jumpers have become a must-have fashion item among teenage girls.

I showed her the only three jumpers I possessed - one white with black trim, one fluffy dark blue, and one battleship grey with a zip-up front - and her eyes immediately lit up. All three have now moved permanently from my wardrobe to hers with a blunt explanation: "It's best if I have them, Dad. They make you look old."

Can someone please explain to me how a jumper can make a 45-year-old man look old yet make a 15-year-old girl look trendy?

The logic leaves me cold in more ways than one.

I'm also losing my trousers. My favourite pair of chinos disappeared a while back and I couldn't work out how I could have mislaid them. It even crossed my mind that they might have been pinched off the washing line.

But then it transpired that they'd been borrowed' by my 17-year-old son who'd grown out of his own trousers during his overnight transformation into the Big Friendly Giant.

I saw him come through the door from college and noticed he was wearing them.

"Hey, they're my trousers!" I shouted.

"Yeah, but they look a lot better on me,"

he replied, coolly.

When he had an operation on his knee last year, he needed some shorts for his physiotherapy sessions. So, naturally, two of my favourite pairs of tennis shorts are missing somewhere in the jungle of his bedroom.

I've lost some of my favourite sports shirts and my already inadequate collection of boxer shorts and socks has been seriously undermined by pilfering and alleged confusion over who owns what.

Jack, 14, is the most fashion-conscious of them all and insists he wouldn't be seen dead in anything I'd wear. He likes designer labels, so he spent all of his Christmas money on clothes ordered on the internet.

His purchases duly arrived last week and a pair of £55 jeans - yes £55 - were too big round the waist.

"In case you're looking for your black belt, Jack's using it because his new jeans are too big," said my wife, nonchalently.

"What am I supposed to keep my trousers up with?" I asked.

"Don't be silly," she said. "All your trousers are too tight - you don't need a belt these days," she replied.

And there wasn't the slightest suggestion that she understood the injustice of it all.

THE THINGS THEY BUY

MY most recent column about the presents I bought for my wife for Christmas - a pair of long johns and a device to turn waste paper into logs for the fire - seems to have struck a chord.

A number of dissatisfied wives has been in touch to complain about some of the Christmas presents they received from their menfolk.

Here's a selection of the lowlights with some level of anonymity preserved in the interest of domestic relations:

* Karen emailed from Yarm to protest about the fact that she was given a pair of gardening gloves and assorted tools.

"I quite like gardening, but it was almost as if he was saying that I should get my act together in the garden."

* Hazel, from Darlington, was distinctly unhappy when she unwrapped a tracksuit and pair of trainers.

"Is he trying to tell me I'm fat?" she asked.

It's really not for me to say.

* And Sue, from Richmond, was "absolutely livid" with the new set of nonstick pans she received with love from her husband.

I wouldn't be at all surprised if he's wearing one of the pans as I write.