24 August, 2010

Rain Stopped Style and Praying to George Lamb


First, I would like to state that the weather is a perfectly acceptable topic of chat.  There is always that person exclaiming that ‘people have nothing better to discuss than the weather!’, ‘to talk about the weather is boring!’ and ‘who cares about the weather!’ Well I have news for you, sunshine, everybody cares about the weather.

 It is one of the few things, after food and sex, which the whole world is interested in. Of course they are. It is a major theme of everybody’s day. Every day.

We may wear different clothes, do different jobs, have different relationships, cook different meals and pray to different gods (I am fairly sure I am one of a very few who pray to George Lamb), but we dwell under the same sky.  Yes the weather is marginally different in Blackpool to what it is in Timbuktu, but the question of ‘what is the weather today?’ affects us all. Whether we like it or not. And therefore it is little wonder it’s one of the key points to cover off in small talk.

I ‘m more than happy to talk about the weather because most weather gives us something get excited about. Sunny? A winner for obvious reasons. Rain? Massive prompt to eat chocolate, brilliant! Snow? Snowed in, even better. You get my point. What I do have beef with though, is when one town embraces more climates within the space of an hour than David Guetta releases collaborations, I mean how are we supposed to work around that?

It makes things beyond tricky, because the weather affects our clothes, our crops, the traffic, our mood, our ability to spy on the neighbour’s laundry. And, using the past 24 hours as a prime example, the weather really affects our cool. And I’m not just talking about temperature.  In the past 24 hours alone I have lost my cool because of the weather on no less than two very public occasions.

Preparing for my run last night was a real conundrum. It had been warm all day, but when 6.30pm found me standing at the tram stop, the rain started pelting in to the tram stop. You may not all know the ergonomics of a tram stop, but for rain to pelt in is a pretty good effort by Zeus. And by the time I got home you could have been forgiven for mistaking me for pond-life.

So I felt ridiculous putting on the old shorts over goosebumped legs only to go haring back out into the wilderness in, but if you’re an ‘efficient cooler’ like me, you know that within 7 seconds of running you’re going to be a balmy red mess. So shorts it was. And, by degrees, it was a fine choice. Ha, take that Mother Nature! What I hadn’t foreseen was the negative consequences of rain on shiny pavement. Pounding along quite happily to pendulum, I was thrown off gleeful tempo by sudden lack of relationship between feet and ground. Three is a crowd, rain! And so I fell.

Luckily I happened to be rounding a corner and managed to turn my fall into a nifty slide into the park, never mind my face was 2 inches from the ground as I did so. But had I not then disappeared into the anonymity of said park; the cars and people on the main road could have really made that an embarrassing moment.

And again today (George lamb what are you doing to me), I cheerily smiled at my radio when Dave of Chris Moyle’s Show said it was sunny across most of the UK this morning. Making the most of the last of the summer, I happily threw on short shorts and sunglasses and headed out the door without so much as a worry in my head. La la la la la la. I arrived at work full of the joys of life, only to be laughed at by my friends ‘oooh you’re going to regret that’ they chuckled ‘did you just walk to work like that?’ another begged of me. I looked out the window, looking for a reason for their remarks. Did they know something I didn’t know?

YES. they knew that the sun now disappearing behind a cluster of clouds wouldn’t in fact be returning, but would just be turning. Into rain. ‘Well, I sniffed, I’m not cold’ and I plonked myself down in my seat, wondering if drinking tea all day would be a worthy substitute for trousers. And lone behold, as the day grew longer, so did my complaints about how cold I was. I even tweeted about it (see below)*




So I spent the rest of the day nonchalantly striding around the building in shorts, while the rest of my work (who are grownups with common sense) sat comfortably in their cardi’. My abstinence from caffeine went swiftly out the window for want of something to warm me up, though the window remained firmly closed.

I know I’m not the only person who has a problem with unreliable climates, because you can see the entire fashion world descend into chaos. Once, at uni, my lecture buddy turned to me en route up a particularly clammy hill on what had started out a toe-chilling day, and declared that everyone was in a bloody pickle. “There are tights over there with sunglasses, what’s that about? And over there, look! There’s an umbrella above bare legs and a mini skirt. No one knows what the hell they're doing.” And he was right. That pavement to uni that day was like Marc Jacobs summer collection had taken a wrong turn and caused a multi-trend pile up in the middle of Vivienne Westwoods winter range.

So the moment I wake up, before I put on my make-up, I’ll say a little prayer to Zeus (George Lamb is fired), and hope he can provide some damn weather-centric consistency in an otherwise inconsistent and unpredictable world...


*HannahRuthPR : cheers sun! Come out long enough for me 2 don shorts then scurry off behind a glory of rain! @SallyRushton & @diggerlisa were right dammit !x about 2 hours ago via HootSuite

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