.....Endless bank holiday weekend, surprise royal weddings, Jacques Cider over ice, tanning without trying, claiming your patch all over London parks. Blackheath, Brockwell, Hampstead - no green space to be found, all occupied with bodies begging to be kissed by the sun. All on a mission to make the heat last; pass through them and remind them that this is it, summer has reared its head. Sozzled with sun. Beaming, knowing the heat and drinks combo only brings about one thing but no head space for that right about now. You've got your vintage sun bather on. Suddenly dreaming of Tree-tops in Kenya, St.Lucian Pitons and white Mauritian beaches. Hot is not what you are seeking but a fever. Sliding plump green olives in mouth and discreetly spit stone out. Philadelphia and Strawberry Jam sandwich bagels makes you think of impending Wimbledon. The sun shine continues to beam down and the cheeky monkey, which we so longed to come out to play, soon has you seeking refuge in tree shade. Admit it, you are festival ready!
Vintage Dress / Nine West Wedges / Random Jewellery mostly from Etsy / Turban from Babooshka
Yes. Yes! I am listening to Chicane's Sun Stroke to keep the mood alive....
