Ugh, July where to start. Perhaps by confessing that, with little to no foreplanning on my end, I somehow wangled myself the most indulgent and gorgeous of Julys in recent history.
The first two weeks of which were spent rediscovering (like clockwork, every year) the absolute supremacy of a London summer with its haylike yellow grass, casual pints, picky bit picnics, strawberries and cream, Hampstead Heath Ladies Pond, tall leafy trees, pimms, and pub nights spilling onto the road. My excuse for going across was to make the most of the Fourth of July weekend and see Lily Allen perform West End Girl at the 02 (predictably incredible, albeit somewhat confronting to watch such vulnerability, honesty, and rawness live) with my mum and sister, and then make a thing of it and stay another week catching up with friends, working a mishmash of US/UK hours remotely, and seeing family.
Of my time in the UK, a particularly glorious day was spent catching the train and then cycling out to see my granny in Cambridgeshire with my siblings. We stopped off at an old-mill-turned-wild-swimming-spot en route for a quick refresh and it was clearly the place to be— chockablock full of every eclectic kind of heatwave-mustered swimmer: kids in Spiderman costumes learning to paddle, teenagers giggling self consciously, old men sitting and staring (as they tend to do), boys in their late teens up to no good, mums gossiping, and my brother, sister, and I splashing about and diving deep as always. Everyone collectively savouring the chance to cool off and escape the simmering, immoveable wall of heat.
I flew back to New York with my heart heavy, as it always is when I leave London after such heavenly snatches of time, just in time to catch England’s defeat by Argentina playing across the big screen in my office’s biggest meeting room. All of my sweet coworkers (mostly Italian) were showing their support and gave me a squeeze when the tears inevitably fell post-match, and in typical prophetic fallacy fashion, it rained on the way home. Once back in the cosy comfort of my apartment, I was too down for the originally scheduled drinks so instead focused my energy on repacking my carry-on to head back to Europe for a work trip confirmed last-minute.
And so, after six days on terra america, I headed back to the airport to fly to Northern Italy to lead a press trip of NY editors around Falconeri’s cashmere factories (big up supply chain transparency). Somewhere between Milan and Verona, it occurred to me that a little spontaneous solo trip would likely be incredibly good for the mind, body, and soul, so I looked up cheap flights and booked myself three days in Alghero, Sardinia for the weekend. That brings us to now.
The sound of cicadas, London summer, the pink bridge of a nose when it’s burnt, Hampstead Heath, reading, watching the football in a pub garden, tropical nights, crisp rosé, the smell of sunblock, long, meandering, mostly empty days, the way sunlight slants through the sea underwater.
Room service and hotel dressing gowns. Will forever be the bougiest thing a person can do in my mind.
Long, meandering, mostly empty days. As the end of summer creeps up, it brings along with it a lethargic slowness, encouraging days that take a week to pass and are best enjoyed when left entirely empty for either spontaneity or leisure to triumph.
The AirBnB I stayed at in Sardinia! Found very last minute, I stayed in one of five rooms in a little apartment run by a sweet Sardinian woman. Perhaps this point is partially influenced by the review she left me, wherein I was described as a persona solare which I’ve chosen to translate as ‘sunny person’ and henceforth do everything in my power to continue to be described as such, BUT the place was truly perfect. With sunflower yellow wallpapering, simple, clean facilities, a terracotta terrace, and quiet, respectful guests, it was everything I’d hoped for and more.
Sardinia!! What a perfect little island!! Dedicated Substack on its way.
My dream car and this specific shade of orange.
Summer of beer?? While a lover of almost all drinks, I’ve historically only been a begrudging social beer drinker and never found myself craving one at the end of a hot day. Well, ladies, it seems that’s changed!! Is it the summer of beer? It may well be. The deal clencher was the ice cold Peroni I had in Sardinia still salty and sticky from a long day at the beach. Bloke-core perfection.
Posting on Instagram. While I’ve always been a relatively shameless and frequent Instagram poster, I’ve recently made the bold choice to switch from my lifetime status of private to public. Feel freee to follow along over there!!
Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Bought in a London charity shop (fave place to buy books), I finally got around to reading this my second F. Scott Fitzgerald novel and while I wouldn’t be in a hurry to describe it as a page-turner, I thoroughly enjoyed the read. Full of unlikeable, complex characters and urged forward with an undercurrent of mental health struggles, relationship drama (and an endless vying for control), and torrid affairs, the novel is transportive. Set between the glitzy glamour of the South of France, the clean, alpine air of Switzerland, and hot summer nights in Paris, Tender is the Night felt similar to Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises in the reading experience, which is to say perfect for throwing in a beach bag. It’s a novel you can pick up and put down over the course of a summer without feeling especially compelled to finish it in one sitting, but will enjoy getting lost in every time. A great summertime companion.
The World Cup. World Cup summers>> Little to nothing to add here, but gosh they're the best.
Love Island UK. Incrementally, inconsistency watched but wow what a personality-filled season.
Headscarfs/bandanas. I’ve been incorporating headscarves into my summer wardrobe with increasing confidence over the last three or so years, and have now taken it to a level where I struggle to call a look complete without one. My favourite ways to tie them are either pirate-style or French girl-style.
White linen skirt. A true wardrobe essential for its easy versatility, I’ve been wearing my thrifted white linen skirt everywhere this month.
Wide legged linen trousers. Similarly, my linen trousers have been constantly in and out of the wash. We had some non-returnable orders come in at work earlier in the year and ever since one of my male colleagues brandished the Calzedonia trousers as a prize on offer (and I almost tackled the poor boy to the floor for them), I’ve been ever smug to come away the proud owner (my other colleagues were too distracted by the excess of Intimissimi cashmere tops to notice).
White tank top. See my recent wardrobe deep dive 10 summery bits I’d buy again in a heartbeat for the 411.
Colourful shawl. Ibid.
Flip flops. The trend of wearing flip flops in the city has been especially popular this year and last, and I’ve been an earnest adopter as a way to chill-ify every look. I’ve also been loving the chunkier, more early ‘00s surfer style ones we’ve been seeing making a comeback, but will likely sit it out another year to work out whether or not they’re a piece of me.
Yellow suede ballerinas. I’ve been keeping my eyes PEELED for a pair of statement ballerinas in the last few months, thinking they would likely be hot pink; and, when I stumbled across a gorgeous mustard (a colour I never wear) suede pair at a seriously good charity shop (Peaceful Solutions, Queen’s Park) in London, I realised I’d found exactly what I was looking for. I love the way these add a lil something bright, fun, and unexpected to an outfit.
Pink silk and lace top. Bought at a stall on Portobello Road Market Notting Hill and head over heels.
Calzedonia swimsuit (bikini top + bikini bottoms). Admittedly, I work for the brand so it’s slightly less exciting, but I recently took advantage of the 50% sales and bought myself a gorgeous new bikini ahead of my solo Sardinia trip. Would recommend.
Cavalli jeans. Begging not to inspire the evil eye for this but MY GOODNESS my luck with vintage jeans has been getting a little out of hand. While in Verona for my recent work trip, I used the one hour I had free to pop into what has quickly become one of my favourite charity shops in the world (Humana Vintage, the specific Verona location) and stumbled across the most ridiculously sick pair of vintage justcavalli jeans—low rise, boot cut, bedazzled butt cheek, zebra pony hair detail across the waistband thank you very much, all for a mere €19!!!
Gelato!!! Strawberry, chocolate, and yogurt flavours are my current fixation.
Post-swim peach. Transportive, divine, and all the better enjoyed when still dripping wet.
Goggles. All thanks to goggles, I spent hours of my solo Sardinia trip underwater spying on hermit grabs, fish, urchins, and little rock crevices, and watching that particularly whimsical way the sunlight spills through clear seawater. A beach bag essential in my household, goggles (and a book ofc) are what makes the beach fun. It’s that simple!!
Homemade chocolate mousse. My sister and I recently made Xanthe Ross’s recipe for dessert with a glass of red wine and it was heavenly. A reminder that you can make delicious desserts for yourself at home whenever you want, without an occasion!!
Watermelon + cucumber + basil + olive oil + feta salad, with a few cracks of salt.
Jacket potatoes with sour cream, butter, and cheddar. Truly one of the most elite creations on the planet and a delicious dollop of patriotism, it was the meal of choice when I sat outside in the garden in London with my mum, sister, and brother before heading to our local pub to watch the England vs. Norway game.
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