The weather is rubbish. It’s June in a couple of days, and it’s freeeezing and rainy. We’ve had a few sunny days before this, but actually it’s mostly been rubbish.
Do you know what’s extra depressing? Before those couple of sunny hours we had over the bank holiday, I actually thought, ‘Well, the weather may be shit, but at least it means that we’re avoiding the wave of weight-loss bikini diet bollocks that normally washes around our ankles at this point in the year.’ My mind boggled, picturing all those desperate weekly women’s magazine editors with pages to fill, but it being too cold to fill them with recommendations for skimmed milk, grilled chicken salads and cottage cheese.
But no, now I have to put up with the showers of cold winter rain, and the showers of bikini judgement and Special K advertising. I would like to mention at this point, I am sitting on the sofa, drinking tea, wearing massive slippers and eating giant chocolate buttons, as befits the weather.
While I can avoid and refuse to buy the magazine weeklies, the adverts this rainy summer have got my goat.
Numero Uno, Special K. It warms my heart that Mr Story buys Special K because he likes the taste, once he’s covered it in whole milk and loads of sugar that is. I like to think that every time he does that a Special K diet dies.
In the advert a patronising voice asks ‘Remember when we couldn’t wait to get into our swimsuits?’ and shows us a group of kids, jumping into the sea.
Apparently the best way for us to recreate this joy is not to get equally excited about swimming in the sea, running really hard down the beach and getting in the water as quickly as possible, swimming about it in and thinking how pretty damn cool swimming in the sea is, before getting out and eating crisp sandwiches whilst wrapped up in a warm towel. I’m really sad that this isn’t the best way to get excited about getting into a swimming costume, because it definitely works for me. In fact, rather than just being about getting excited to get into a swimming costume, it makes me rather excited about the whole life thing.
Nope, the way to get excited about being in a swimming costume (let’s not get into the whole fact we’re required to feel excited about wearing things), is Special K. Which means that sandy toes, the special free and alive feeling of swimming around in the sea, tight warm sun kissed skin, and sandwiches made a little saltier from the sea on your fingers is not exciting. Diet cereal is. Or losing a couple of pounds is. The losing of those couple of pounds are the grown-up excitement we should aspire to, rather than actual fun and joy. Pass me the chocolate buttons.