What I wore last Saturday for birthday lunch.
Dress: Dorothy Perkins; belt: Peacocks; cami: M&S; jacket: vintage; hat: a gift from Kate last birthday; necklace: a gift from Martha last birthday; shoes: Primark
I took advantage of working from home today to pop to the supermarket at lunchtime. The weather was unbelievable – almost unpleasantly hot with cloudless blue skies. I was walking along, enjoying the heat tingling against my skin, feeling instinctively that something was wrong.
I realised that the sun only makes up a very small part of our great British summertime. The sunshine seems incomplete without full and leafy green trees to offer us shade. And there’s something about the scent of summer months that makes up an important element of the whole – without it something feels very wrong.
Still, I shan’t bitch and moan about the Indian summer, indeed I’ll see it as the boon that it is for the gentlemen slaving away on our extension – which must surely be easier in the dry weather?
In spite of the above, I cannot help but be in a good mood on sunny days. As such, I often find myself smiling at complete strangers, on the assumption that no-one can be unhappy under clear blue skies. I conveniently forget that the rest of the world doesn’t see the world through the same rose-tinted sunglasses, and am invariably met with one of two responses: either the half-smile of “I-don’t-think-I-know-you-but-perhaps-I-should” non-recognition, or the blatant “how-dare-you-try-to-infect-me-with-your-crazy” glare. Neither succeeds in wiping the smile from my crazy-lady face, but the second makes me wonder what exactly is the matter with some poeople!