[русский текст - ниже]
I have yet to take my sandals out of the box and check whether my favourite rainbow dress still fits me (if not, blame the crazy long winter and everyone's obsession with hygge), but my inbox is already overflown with news about 50% discounts on summer collections.
The citizens of St. Petersburg have accepted the fact that it is never warm in June long time ago, however this year's weather is absolutely absurd - I spent the first month of so-called summer wrapping scarves around my neck, drinking 'Dr. Mom' syrup straight out of the bottle and walking through puddles in wet textile sneakers that clearly were not designed for such rainy days (surprise!). It seems like it is time to stop moaning about the weather anomalies and put up with the fact that summer begins on the 21st of June, not on the 1st.
To be honest, the last few weeks were so exhausting (bye-bye, exams!) that I really want to go south - both literally and figuratively. Eat cheap fruits and dance to some sort of Camila Cabello all night long. Get tickets to Tunisia, throw a few bikinis in a suitcase and in a few hours greet the sun in Africa - just like we did 3 years ago. Or take a bus ride along the coast of Marseille and listen to the stories of a local man who clearly overestimated my ability to speak French (they all seem to).
Alas, the schedule I enthusiastically created today after successfully completing the penultimate semester at university means I will have to spend most of July & August buried in books about Renaissance and lengthy tomes written by art historians who make suprematism sound like quantum physics. Summer in the city it is, then. In between assignments and presentations I plan to finally visit Blahnik and Bakst exhibitions, take a look at the vintage underwear and Hermès carrés, finish 'Au Bonheur des Dames' and watch Sofia Coppola's 'The Beguiled'. Let's hope the weather gets better and I get to see summer not just on my Instagram feed this year.
The citizens of St. Petersburg have accepted the fact that it is never warm in June long time ago, however this year's weather is absolutely absurd - I spent the first month of so-called summer wrapping scarves around my neck, drinking 'Dr. Mom' syrup straight out of the bottle and walking through puddles in wet textile sneakers that clearly were not designed for such rainy days (surprise!). It seems like it is time to stop moaning about the weather anomalies and put up with the fact that summer begins on the 21st of June, not on the 1st.
To be honest, the last few weeks were so exhausting (bye-bye, exams!) that I really want to go south - both literally and figuratively. Eat cheap fruits and dance to some sort of Camila Cabello all night long. Get tickets to Tunisia, throw a few bikinis in a suitcase and in a few hours greet the sun in Africa - just like we did 3 years ago. Or take a bus ride along the coast of Marseille and listen to the stories of a local man who clearly overestimated my ability to speak French (they all seem to).
Alas, the schedule I enthusiastically created today after successfully completing the penultimate semester at university means I will have to spend most of July & August buried in books about Renaissance and lengthy tomes written by art historians who make suprematism sound like quantum physics. Summer in the city it is, then. In between assignments and presentations I plan to finally visit Blahnik and Bakst exhibitions, take a look at the vintage underwear and Hermès carrés, finish 'Au Bonheur des Dames' and watch Sofia Coppola's 'The Beguiled'. Let's hope the weather gets better and I get to see summer not just on my Instagram feed this year.
Photo edited by Sergey Povoroznyuk
