hot hot summer!

'Summer afternoon - summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.'

Henry James

There are some things that i love about summer - lemon-y fish and chips, salty sea breezes, mangoes with juice that drips all over the floor, ice tea, lying around lazily in parks and the colour white. I love alfresco lunches, i love dive bombing into pools, i love sleeping on top of the sheets.

But god, i hate getting dressed. I wake up in muggy summer heat, tangled up in the sheets and i dread the prospect of putting clothes on and venturing out in polite society. If only we could all run around like Carrie Bradshaw in midriff tops and full skirts. On the days I have work i can just pull something black and 'business-like' out of my closet and jump on a bus, but every other day I stand, flummoxed, trying to work out what to wear. The heat suffocates me and all i can think about is how much i would rather just stay home and sit in front of my freezer wearing nothing but a slip and knickers.

I felt it today, i spent a whole lazy sunday with friends doing nothing but gossiping and eating, cool, refreshing salads, lashings of lemon and crispy baguettes. I tried to find something to wear that would keep me cool in this ridiculous sydney heat as well as appear chic in the manner of european jet-setters in monaco or biarritz, something of such sort. Where were my little cheesecloth tunics and pencil-thin legs, my little strappy sandals and floppy hats? My loose linen trousers and baggy breton stripes. All i could see were my stuffy skirts in thick materials, scratchy tops and ill-advised jackets. Why do i have so many jackets? Why do i have so many thick skirts and tops?

Maybe it's never been this hot before, or maybe i've been too long away from the heat of summer, but it felt hotter than ever before. I eventually settled on my perfect oversized cotton tee shirt in a minty green and a long checked skirt with a pair of sandals. But i wasn't cool and languid in the manner of a dries van noten babe or riviera champagne bubble girl. Later that night at dinner I was stuffy and sticky and not even ice cold coke could cool me down. It was terrible.

What is the secret to summer dressing in sydney? Seriously, i need to know, especially since i have so many more of these to endure. And there's got to be more than just one answer - denim cut offs and tank tops. Not every girl can run around town in those clothes.

This is what i want to look like. Why can't i, even when consciously emulating this look, be easy and breezy like they appear. Little silk slips of things layered over each other, duster jackets that provide that light coverage that you need on gossamer summer nights. And it's not because these are actually quite hot things to wear - Dasha Zhukova and Margherita Missoni swan around Cannes in clothes similar to this all the time. So what is different about me, and Sydney?

I don't (and won't) submit myself to the cliche bronzed amazonian aussie girl. I think that bronze limbs poking out from crisp white shirt sleeves can be just as alluring and summer-sodden as mini skirts. And it's also just as cool, wearing less clothes, than it is wearing ones with slightly more coverage if made from materials that breathe. So why doesn't this work for me? I know it works for some people... I know it. So why not for me? I end up muggy and downcast, and end up having to tie my hair up into a very unflattering top knot and fanning myself with whatever flat item i can get my hands on.

Am i being unrealistic here? Is the key to summer dressing LESS not MORE? Or can we achieve that languid, loose, boxy silhouette of the belgians without sacrificing comfort? I certainly hope so.

X

ps. i'm so sorry for the lack of blogging, i've been house sitting for friends, working hard, planning february and uni and it's also been so damn hot i dont want to do anything other than cold baths and reading silly books whilst sitting in front of freezers and/or fans/open doors.

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new year, new you

i'm all for new beginnings, i live for them. phoenixes rising from the ashes, and whatnot. but this new year did not start terribly well for me. champagne-soaked deep and meaningfuls about such horrible things as single statuses and fashion faux pas aren't really the best thing to set the midnight mood.

I've perked up now, though, with a whole day of shameful 90s teen flicks and gobbling up the leftovers from my friend's party food. and now, sitting in front of a foreign computer (i'm house sitting, again) at 7:30 pm on the first of january i can safely say that i am ready to face the new year, whatever it brings.

2009 was a year of firsts. I hope that 2010 will be a year of fun. I'm not just talking about the kind that comes from the bubbles in champagne or the straps of a high-heeled party shoe. I'm talking about al fresco lunches in leafy parks with friends who make you belly laugh like cameron diaz. I'm also talking about fun in the form of everlasting sundays of gooey french cheese, breadsticks and the newest magazines flapping in the cool breeze. building up my itunes again to its former glory. Running off to new york in february to surprise my best friend for her birthday (oh! how she will go wild!). spending less money on clothes and more on life - i mean, more on boozy dinners, on travelling to far flung places dotting the rugged australian landscape that i'm yet to truly appreciate, on reading more books than just those produced in seaside british towns singing of bright young things and marriage proposals.

fun... and discovery. i never make resolutions but there is always the unspoken hope that this year, this one, i will discover something about myself. last year i learnt my resilience. this year i hope to discover something else entirely.

thanks for visiting, reading, laughing and sharing with me this year. let's hope next year we have the best of times, the worst of times, and everything in beween. here's to you, i hope you had a drink (or two) for me!



X

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