[Images: Nathan James Page]
1. Hidrosis on the tube
From June to August, perspiration on public transport is the bane of every Londoner’s life. Sure, you leave the house feeling fresh and looking fly, but after eight stops on a sweltering tube train, you arrive at work looking like you just lost a wet T-shirt competition. Listen, when we said it would be lovely to spend some time reading our Kindle in Balearic temperatures, that meant while lying on a beach in Majorca, not standing on the Central line to Mile End.
2. Hypothermia at the office
Having endured a blistering commute (see above), the cool breeze of the office air-conditioning is a godsend. Unfortunately, after two hours sitting in sandals and short sleeves, arctic temperatures have you defrosting your toes under the hand-dryer in the loos. The maintenance man may swear that the building is an ‘agreeable’ 23 degrees all year round, but you’ve had to don emergency thermals and set fire to a pile of magazines under your desk.
3. Wardrobe roulette
Summer in this city is a lottery: will it be sunshine, will it be rain or will it be both? You know what you’re getting the rest of the year: endless drizzle. But three months of uncertainty is an absolute ‘mare when it comes to planning an outfit: in particular deciding whether today’s a good day to wear flip-flops to work (fyi, it’s never a good day for that – this ain’t Australia, mate). Bring back winter! When we didn’t have to constantly deal with such serious life choices. Yeah, it was grim, but at least in December we knew where we were with the weather: grey every day and wall-to-wall hail. Guaranteed.
4. Beer-garden burn
Like chlamydia in Magaluf, beer-garden sunburn is the capital’s most common summertime condition. As you knock back the Pimm’s and exchange bants with mates in the backyard of your local, even on an overcast afternoon the sun still manages to fry your pallid Londonite skin. Only when you step inside to order your sixth round do you catch sight of yourself, reflected in a shiny beer pump, and realise that you now have the complexion of a bladdered Mr Blobby.
5. Enforced socialising
Didn’t you just love February, when it was absolutely fine to do nothing but stay at home and watch ‘House of Cards’? Now it’s late May and not a weekend goes by without you having to turn out for a bloody barbecue or a game of giant Jenga on a roof terrace. Even though you’re gagging for an evening alone with Netflix again, staying in on a Saturday night in summer just isn’t allowed. Everyone will think you’re a recluse, a vampire or – worse – a ‘Britain’s Got Talent’ fan.
By Elizabeth Darke, who actually looks pretty good with sunburn.
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