JOANNE Watkinson
It’s midsummer, not that dreadful place where everyone gets murdered (does anyone else question why people stayed living there after the first few people met a grisly end?) and not technically midsummer as the solstice was in June, but the eternal child in me always feels that mid-August is the pinnacle of summer.
The kids are halfway though their school holidays and there are a precious few weeks left until life returns to “normal” in September.
There is something magical about mid-August – it’s full of promise. If we are lucky, the sun will shine and we get to give our summer clothes their last hurrah, because when the seasons change to autumn after the penultimate bank holiday of the year, summer clothes don’t feel quite the same do they?
That’s the thing about August, you know it’s your last opportunity, so you wear the clothes, you sit in the garden, you drink the rosé.
But August also has a terrible habit of making me melancholy and regretful. I think of the things I perhaps should have done earlier in the summer like exercised more or (don’t laugh) worn those new cream trousers more often, because I won’t wear them as often in winter and the opportunity has been missed.
Tell me I’m not the only one who experiences clothing regret? I feel bad for having clothes which don’t fulfil their potential.
It happens most often when clothes are particularly seasonal, it’s the reason I never buy designer swimwear. I can’t justify the price when I wear it so infrequently, but if I lived in a hot country and had access to a beach on a regular basis, I would feel differently.
Same goes for occasion wear. A crazy expensive dress bought and worn to one wedding or party, no matter how spectacular the event, or how fabulous, leaves me with a huge pang of remorse if the dress isn’t worn again.
I no longer get the high I used to from shopping for a special occasion but I am yet to venture into the world of clothes rental. It’s a fantastic form of sustainable retail and one I can whole heartedly get behind, but wait, what happens if you love the dress so much you want to keep it?
I am now regretting a dress I didn’t buy to wear to an event that didn’t happen.
Pass me the rosé, it’s still summer, I will worry about it in September.