This is a sponsored post in collaboration with Nicce
I can smell summer approaching. Perhaps it’s something to do with our hottest early May bank holiday on record or perhaps it’s something to do with what’s flowering in parks and gardens, but over the past few days I’ve been gleefully breathing in the air in the way that you might if you could smell your favourite food approaching when you’ve ordered it in a restaurant and were eagerly anticipating its arrival.
And yes, okay, the seasons are being a bit temperamental because one minute we’re wondering if it’s possible to sweat yourself out of existence and the next we’re shivering, panicking because the winter clothes are long since put in storage and googling ‘warm clothes but spring’ or ‘hoodies womens‘ or ‘jumper bodysuit’ (that’s a thing people search for, I checked) or ‘summer dress with built in umbrella?’ (not so much) – but it’s not just the temperature.
It’s the fact that it’s still light at 8pm and doing something after work feels like fun rather than a drag. It’s the fact that even the most daunting of days feels a little easier when it’s light outside when you wake up. It’s the possibility in the air, because in summer even the everyday can feel a bit like escaping the everyday, and the weeks are filled with the sort of things you anticipate and talk about before hand and get nostalgic and laugh about afterwards.
So, what do I have planned, I hear you ask? Not much really; I’ve got a baby shower, I’ve got a wedding, I’ve got my birthday and I’ve got a Sex and the City party (plz someone give me outfit ideas). I’m going to become an aunty for the first time, which is all sorts of fantastic even though I don’t really find babies or children as squeal-worthy as some people because they make me nervous. Aside from that, though? Nada. No grand plans, no holidays and no big life changes, and maybe that’s why I’ve chosen to take this summer as one that will be full of opportunity and enjoyment.
I’m excited for lunch breaks spent sitting in parks, eating vegan ice cream from a stall on the market and getting into some of the books which have been sitting neglected while I try to work my way through a dreary winter slump.
I’m excited for days on the beach when it’s hot and evenings by the coast when it’s started to get chilly. Side note: these photos were taken at the weekend when we were experiencing our apparent heatwave, but come 5pm, which is when we were shooting, the air was cool and the wind was waging an attack on me, despite the sun still being bright enough to cause all of these rather unattractive shadows. It turned out to be perfect timing for a casual hoody in the most perfect sunshine colour and a skirt long enough not to reveal my pants to the families who were still firmly sat on their towels. This is Britain after all; you can’t assume the evening is going to be warm even if the daytime has been and you definitely can’t assume that the wind won’t try to strip you of your dignity.
I’m not excited about looking at my reflection and seeing chubby thighs and cursing summer outfits, but we’ll talk about that another time.
I’m excited to feel somewhat invincible, spurred on no doubt by the heady mix of factor 50 and fruit ciders, forget my perfectionism and write more freely because some *wild* sense of carefree has come over me.
I’m excited for pimms in beer gardens and music outside and accidentally staying out until crazy o’clock being totally okay because it’s summer. I’m excited to explore old and new places, on my doorstep and further afield. I’m excited for days in London. I’m excited to make plans, book some trips, and have a very short wait for them. I’m excited for both spontaneity and routine.
The season it seems more possible than ever that just about anything might happen is approaching and it’s making me feel wonderful.
What do you have planned for it?
What I’m wearing
Hoody: C/O Nicce | Skirt – Topshop | Bag – Zara | Sliders – Primark | Ridiculously windswept hair – all my own
Photography: Robert Poor
*This post is sponsored by Nicce. All styling, imagery, and apparent ability to smell the onset of summer are my own.