Yestheweatherislovely. Yesitisveryhot. Yesitmakesachangefromtheusualwindandrain. Ohyeshere’shopingitlasts. Blahblahblah.
The thing is though, I can’t come to the park. Or go to your BBQ. I can’t hang out on the pavement drinking cider or stroll around the market. Why? I’ll tell you why. Firstly, I am from S-c-o-t-l-a-n-d. In temperatures above 14 degrees, my make up falls off, my hair sticks to my forehead, my ankles swell and I get migraines. That’s just the way life is. There’s nothing I can do about that stuff. Secondly, Scotland doesn’t really ‘do’ seasons. Mother nature tries her best to keep us right by making leaves fall off stuff at certain times of the year and by cueing the arrival of crocuses, daffodils, primroses and so on at others. But where the weather is concerned, aside from the rare heatwave, every day kind of feels like autumn and I’ve come to dress accordingly.
You know when you hear about people rotating the content of their wardrobes to suit spring/summer and autumn/winter? I’ve never had to do that. I wear tights all year round. And cardigans, vests and boots. My woollies have never been sucked up in one of those weird vacuum storage bags and my winter coat is just, ‘my coat’. Well, that was until I moved from Glasgow to London. Since then, whatever semblance of style I had has been thrown into utter disarray and I find myself (particularly in nice weather) unable to leave the house for lack of suitable attire. I gotta get me some sandals.