WHENI was still teaching I relished summer only because it meant less teaching load or a two-month vacation and having time for myself. But other than that I did not enjoy summer.
I could not understand why we would relish that time of the year when the sun is being its scorching, sadistic self.
Waking up to sunshine filling my small room (unwelcomed at that) is not a spark of joy but the makings of an incinerator. If I were not working it meant I could wear light clothes but then again why would I venture going outside at all when the sun is 31° yet felt like 38°.
When it is cold, I could wear a sweater or a hoodie or be a burrito inside a blanket. What would I do when it is summer, rip my skin off? They say that I would feel better if I wear clothes that do not cling to my skin yet I am not the type to wear lycra, elastane, or spandex. So I buy clothes made of linen, cotton, crepe de chine, cotton voile, and even batiste. They have been called natural fabric and rightly so because the moment my sweat glands are triggered by Mr. Sun’s generous rays, my clothes become wet rags, and stick on my back like second skin. Nothing can be more organic than a sheer blouse that sticks to your body like it belonged there. So organic.
They also suggest open footwear