So hot, but it’s no bother with a new summer wardrobe - Fiona Duff
Well, I know we are all talking about the amazing weather that’s been here for the past few days.
And hasn’t it brought out the ‘taps aff’ in local parks as well as other public spaces; in some case where ‘taps on’ might have been a better option for any onlookers.
Cellulite and beer bellies are best kept to exposure in the intimacy of one’s shower or bath. But maybe that’s just me – perhaps we should just embrace the diversity of the human body.
Anyhow, what pleasure this has brought me after a trip to India at the beginning of the year. It’s a country that is definitely worth a visit – we decided that our days might be numbered for a long haul flight without a Lottery win so we can upgrade to a comfy seat.
While we were there we could not get over how little clothes cost. You could walk into a shop and buy a pair of cotton trousers for less than a cup of coffee in Sotckbridge.
In fact, these women at sewing machines would run up a dress and pair of trousers for the price of over-priced pasta in the same location. So of course we shopped. Then when we got home I looked at these and realised that many would probably never see the light of day again. Until this week!
Well, summer tops and baggy cotton trousers are just what I needed to wander around town. Instead of just a couple of tops to rotate during sunny season (maybe 8-12 days maximum) I have literally a drawer full of clothes to put on and prance about.
And that is exactly what I do because I know that no-one who, like me, buys most of their clothes in Marks & Spencer or H&M, will be wearing the same. I know that global warming is a bad thing, and I am so happy that I no longer live in London nor were there this week which must have been quite awful.
But I am as shallow as a petri dish. So knowing that I am almost unique in my outfit as I saunter around Princes Street Gardens does make me feel quite special. However, when the sun goes down I am reminded that I live in Edinburgh and I do find myself enfolded in a lovely beige cardigan. The invisible cloak of a menopausal woman.