An unexpectedly MAGICAL SUMMER

Let’s be honest, most of us are probably not going to escape to far-off shores this summer. We’re not going to dust off the sandals and floor-length kaftan we had planned to slope around Hydra in, and we’re almost certainly not going to be posting pictures of our thighs by an azure patch of pool in some far corner of Europe.

No, instead we’re going to have to lean into what’s on our doorsteps: a British summer. A British summer, you say? You need heat for a proper summer. And pools! Parasols! Boys with syncopated hips and sycophantic small talk. Beaches where the sand burns the soles of your feet and the fruit on your plate has fallen from a sun-warmed branch mere metres from your table. These are the solid, sensuous symbols of summer. Britain can’t do that… Can it?

Officially, British summer starts on 2O June and ends on 22 September, but we all know this isn’t the truth. A British summer blooms in our hearts and imaginations around about the time the clocks go forward. It starts on the day schools break up (the rhythm of our school days never really leaving us) and dies an untimely, sagging death on 31 August. That means we have roughly 45 days to have the biggest, most outrageous ball of the year. Because a British summer is outrageous. That first delicious shock of warmth does strange things to us. If you’re from anywhere where sun is a certainty, you don’t need to be inventive. The sun itself is enough. But if you’re British? You get creative. As a result, British summertime is filled with extraordinary sights and sounds and shindigs that you would struggle to find anywhere else in the world. A British summer is a fête on every village green, with chutneys and tombolas and competitions where your dog is judged by the wag of its tail. A British summer is a tinkling ice-cream van selling raspberry sauce that tastes of childhood and a million E-numbers. A British summer is a wardrobe of diaphanous dresses and chunky cardigans, socks and sandals, shorts and trainers, because you always have to be prepared. A British summer is Pimm’s and summer pudding and hedonism. (Lots and lots of hedonism.)

British summer is a time when the entire UK population becomes at least 63% more friendly. A time when you will see more topless middle-aged men embracing body positivity than you would at a Swedish sauna, and hear more laughter and music than at the Rio Carnival. A British summer is magical because it is totally and utterly unique, its very rhythm and dance defined by its impermanence. This is the July issue of ELLE, for those who understand that sometimes the best things in life are right in front of you.

“A BRITISH SUMMER IS MAGICAL BECAUSE IT IS TOTALLY AND utterly unique ”