Here Comes the Sun

 

 Isn’t the weather fabulous?  Two days in a row I’ve gone to work without even a summery jacket.  Coming out to wander the streets at lunch time, in the sun, with everyone in good moods, should be a joy.

But there’s always someone to ruin everything, isn’t there?

I love the fact that in Ireland, you can’t tell, just from looking out a window, whether it’s sunny and warm or sunny and cold.  Once it’s sunny at all, we all start looking like we’re ready for a heatwave.

It’s traditional, we all know, for Irish people to start stripping off as soon as it stops raining.  But as with everything, someone goes too far.

I was out wandering about and struggling not to spend any money yesterday, when it occurred to me that we need rules.  We can’t have people parading around as they see fit every time the sun shines.

I’ve made up a few to get us started:-

Gentlemen, regardless of your size or shape, going completely bare chested is for the beach, or your own back garden.  Spreading your sweaty selves around Henry Street and across the merchandise in Debenhams while stripped to the waist in inappropriate.  If you’re not a cage fighter, there’s no need to disrobe in an urban setting.

Ladies, I’m not a small woman.  In fact, by any standards, I’m quite large.  This is why my wardrobe contains absolutely no boob tubes, no belly tops and no hotpants.  Larger ladies need to dress with dignity for these sunny times.  Nobody wants to see your burned belly, or your freckled and peeling  shoulders. I think it’s okay for me to say it, since I’m big myself. 

Let’s make it simple.  If they stock your size in Evans (and God knows, they do mine) you should never buy a boob tube, a belly top or a pair of hotpants.

I’m no longer in the first bloom of my youth.  So let me go a step further.  If you are one of those ladies of a certain vintage who fling themselves into a boob tube at the first sign of sun, it is often a sign that you’re a sun worshipper, and always have been.  There is a direct correlation between this and the wrinkled, leathery look of your décolletage.  Once the bust area develops this look, it’s there for life.  So hang up your boob tube.  Your day is over.

Now one for both sexes.  It’s about short shorts.  Or, I suppose, back to hotpants.  Another golden rule.  If the pockets of your denim shorts hang down below the lower edge of them, there’s a good chance that they’re too short.  All this does is draw stranger’s eyes directly to your crotch.  Is that who you really want to be?

Boys, if you are in the habit of wearing tennis shorts, kindly stop.  Especially, for God’s sake, if you plan on doing any running or exercise of any kind.

Just because the weather is nice in Ireland, there’s no reason to wear your Santa Ponsa clothes.  There is absolutely no excuse for wearing a bikini top and sarong here.  Except on the beach, of course.

There is no need to put on forty seven layers of fake tan to facilitate your summer look.  All you’re doing is preventing yourself from getting any sort of natural golden glow, since the Irish sun is unlikely to be able to fight its way through the layers of chemicals on your person to give you a colour.

Never, ever wear your hotpants or tiny skirt, even if you’re a little nymph, with your winter shoes.  If you’re wearing a tiny skirt and Ugg boots, the average person you meet will probably not be able to stop themselves from thinking about how sweaty your feet must be.  Eugh

I won’t insult any of you by reminding you boys not to wear socks with sandals, or work type shoes with your shorts.  That would be going a step too far.

Before you adorn yourself in your flip flops, please have a quick look at your feet.  There’s no need for a full French pedicure, but a quick trim, and a bit of moisturiser around the heels would be appreciated.   Feet are repulsive enough, without making them worse through neglect and idleness.   You’re not Father Jack, don’t look like it.

If you haven’t had time to do your plucking, waxing or shaving, obviously do not put on your sleeveless top.  There is nothing as repulsive as a furry ladies underarm in your face when you lean over the beauty counter to review their new lip gloss.

Just because the sun is out, there is no need for you teenagers to go even further down the path of Californian accents.  You’re still in Dublin, just because it’s not pissing rain doesn’t mean you should start  speaking like something from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  “Dude” is not Irish enough for us.  Neither is “babe”.  “Hey babe" or just "Dude" as a greeting is annoying.  “Well, girl / boy/ lad” or "How's it going?" is fine.

I'd be delighted to hear of any rules you might like to make up yourselves.  For example, you might think it's a good idea for big ole cranky people to stop spending their summer making up rules for the rest of us to live by.  Please feel free to say so.