Saturday, 9 July 2011
SUMMER'S SARTORIAL SIN
I was having drinks with a friend of mine the other day when he paused to 'admire' a woman walking down the street.
The reason I put admire in quotes is cos he was blatantly staring at this girl like she was the Second Coming.
'I love sundresses', he said, drooling over his watermelon Martini.
Another reason why I hate summer. The sundress.
Ok, let's say for a second that you are blessed with the body of a Victoria's Secret model.
A sundress in London? Pur-lease.
One day last week, I walked out of the house in my ballerina flats and almost melted in the blistering heat. The next day, determined not to be caught in the same predicament, I wore a pair of tan gladiator sandals to meet my friends for lunch. It rained. They looked down at my feet pityingly, like I couldn't afford proper shoes.
So let's not even start with the perils of a bloody sundress. Oh, alrighty, lets.
No1: work appropriate?! I don't think so. The day I saw my friend for drinks was a Tuesday, why was this woman not coming from the office? What was she doing wondering around in a sundress on a weekday. Clearly, she's an idiot.
No2 When a gust of wind blows, which it inevitably will, you will reveal a flash of Spanx, Bridge-Jones style underwear, or your ass. None of which are acceptable. Unless you are Marilyn Monroe, and let's face it, it's unlikely that you are.
No3 When it rains, which it will, you will look stupid and who wants to look stupid?
No4 Just when you think it is ok, like at a barbecue, at a private house, where you will spend minimal amount of time, things happen, like you have to sit on the floor.
It's uncomofortable, un-lady like, bugs crawl all over you and then you stand up with grass marks all over your legs or sweat patches on your brand new sundress that you just had to buy cos your moronic friend told you to.
Now let's remember that you don't have the body of a supermodel and you never lost the weight you thought you would lose by now. The problems have only just begun.
The sundress. The porn of fashion. Invented by men, for men.
Posted by Maysa Rawi at 10:49