last day for wearing a blazer this season, mid-May 2012, with the girls in Brooklyn
The time is fastly approaching.
The time of sticky days where the least amount of clothing while still being appropriate becomes the only criteria for getting dressed. Where I actually hope for a cold shower just to get a reprieve. Where food is almost an afterthought and really the only thing I can utter is, for.the.love. give.me.water. ice.cold.water.
I know the time is fastly approaching because we've taken our first walk to the subway in complete silence. I have a hard time concentrating on making words come out of my mouth when there's sweat dripping down places I was raised not to discuss in polite company.
I also stared this season in the hot, sweaty face the other night when we went to dinner with friends. I chose a cute colorblocked silkish shirt to wear, verging on fancy, inclining my ear for a compliment from my man. By the end of the night, I had made a vow to anyone who would listen that I'd never ever wear anything silkish ever again unless icicles were hanging from my nose.
It's not that I dislike summer. I just dislike being hot and sweaty. And I have a hard time not being those things when it's 90plus degrees and 89% humidity in a city where our mode of transportation is our feet.
So if you see me around New York City over the next three months, I'll be the girl sucking back water, uttering very few words, wearing anything other than silk, begging the beads of sweat not to puddle around my lady parts.
Please be nice.