Swimsuit – Huit 8. Sandals – Birkenstocks. Glasses – Finlay & Co. Face Mist – Purearth. Straw Bag – H&M Home.
Darling it’s better, down where it’s wetter. Take it from me
Swimsuit – Victoria’s Secret. Bag – Louis Vuitton. Brogues – Hudson x Charlie May. Sunnies – Karen Walker. Watch – Larsson & Jennings.
Clearly, seasons aren’t London’s strong suit – there have been hints of summer these few days, although awkward overcompensation at best. Last week the city transformed into an oversubscribed Bikram yoga class with hot, thick, armpit-consistency air with condensation streaming down the walls and windows (this is possibly what the River Thames made of). So far, I’ve managed to find shelter within some tightly shut double-glazed windows, a small fan circulating stale-but-cooler air; but my mind keeps wandering back to the Maldives – of rushing sea winds on a boat as it slices through aquamarine water, escorted by a school of shiny dolphins. What I wouldn’t give now to be able to grab some snorkel things and plunge into the water! Or hand-signal a dad-joke at a family of clown fish, blow bubbles into a giant clam, and chase a sea turtle around a forest of reefs! Frankly, I wouldn’t even mind thrashing away from a unimpressed-looking blacktip reef-shark* again, it surely is more interesting than sighting a pack of sweaty, shirtless yobs with open beer cans in the park across the street at the very least.
Oh well, I’m blowing bubbles through a straw into my morning iced-coffee, I suppose it’ll have to do for now.
*apparently as scared of you as you are of them. Hallelujah.