When a flare-up is at its worst my skin is flaky, red raw, sometimes it oozes. It bleeds, makes it hard to bend my fingers, it hurts. It’s 'ugly'. The last thing I want to do is throw on a pair of shorts or a sleeveless top and bask in the sunlight. I hide my hands under tables, in my pockets or by clutching my phone. I wear black tights until the last possible moment and then swap to loose skirts that fall just below my knees.