I have no idea how all women except me manage to remain clothed and look effortless about it in the summer.
Socks fall down around my ankles within two steps. Strappy tops’ straps dangle about my elbows as soon as I let go of them unless I staple them to my bra straps (which only stay on because they dig in like billy-o). Trousers fall off within minutes, and only slightly *less* immediately if I cinch them so tight with a belt that they make me feel sick. Court shoes fall off immediately or are agony. There is no middle ground. Shoes with a strap that goes around the back of the heel slip off the MINUTE I stand up and move my feet. Shoes with straps anywhere else turn my feet into a giant bleeding blister festival within five steps. Scarves plaster themselves across my face and embed themselves in my lipstick as soon as a tiny zephyr whispers towards me. Anything that ties up comes undone, and anything with press studs leaves me weeping in the loos with one of my nails bent back at the sort of angle that makes me whimper “MOTHER!”
It seems I was destined to drift through life in a collection of brightly coloured muumuus with no undercrackers.