I hate summer clothes. I’ll sweat it out in my long sleeves and trousers for as long as I can get away with, ignoring emails about SS16’s ‘hot shop’ collection until I start getting hallucinations from the heat. It’s not that I have any major hangups over revealing my body in all its glory to the world at large, but I just feel that the world did nothing to deserve the sight of my pasty white skin. I’m confident I’m pale enough to blind an unexpectant beach-goer. Plus I have strong evidence to suggest I’m at least 90% shoulder, and 0% boob.

I realise this may seem trivial to some of you. Sometimes it seems trivial to me too. But my internet search history is already full of variations on the phrase “swimwear colours for very pale skin”. I’m already frustrated with the lack of summer tops on the market that will work without needing a bra designed by NASA. A hangup is a hangup, no matter how small.

Don’t get me wrong, I still think I’m pretty great and was sent to Earth to thrill and amaze, but I just don’t like bikinis, strappy tops, shorts and short skirts without copious layers over the top. And I know I’m not alone. For every time I have stood in front of a mirror in a bikini that makes me look like a twelve year old boy who has never seen the light of day, I know there are thousands of others who have compared themselves to other undesirable images. It also makes me sad to know that many of you fabulous people feel this way all year round. I know I’m very, very lucky to love the way I look at ANY time, and to be in many ways the focal customer of the fashion industry in its current state. Maybe it’s the juxtaposition of my usual inflated self-confidence and who-cares-what-people-think-I-like-this-godawful-print-I’m-going-to-wear-it-and-sass-it-out attitude with a lack of all this in summer that makes it strike me so hard.

I’m afraid I have no solutions to make you love your form, swimsuited or otherwise. If it helps, the other day I found a young fellow on Tinder whose bio read “confidence is key”. No? Me neither. At present I’m trying to deal with the summer wardrobe war with humour. Ironically I find there’s nothing like a bit of self-deprecation to help you love yourself a bit. How many amusing metaphors can I come up with to describe how absurd I look in this dress? Let’s snapchat this to EVERYONE at a really unflattering angle. I really wish I’d saved the photo of me in the black plunge swimming costume I thought was a good idea to try on. I looked like an all-shoulder ghost, if ghosts could get wedgies. Instead of seeing such a glorious sight, feast your eyes upon this photo that truly captures how pale I am.


I hope it brings you laughter. Let us rejoice in changing room disasters this summer. We can do it together. From now on I will take photos of every single summer outfit I try on: the terrible, the REALLY terrible, and hopefully the good. Join in on my journey to conquer my summer body hangups by laughing mercilessly at myself, and I hope you can find a way to battle yours too!

Terrifying results to follow . . .



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