I fancy myself an intrepid traveller, the kind Paul Bowles wrote about in the Sheltering Sky. *
When I was 22, I realised how great gold looked at the beach.
As everyone was fleeing London for a sunny place after months of cold, grey weather, we decided to purse our stiff, not-so-British lips and head to the coast.
The weather is hardly inspiring us to consider beach-weather. And granted, excess winter podge looks it’s absolute ghastliest in winter. But as this season’s swimwear hits the shops, your choices are at their best now. Wait until the warm weather actually hits and you’ll be left with a picked-over selection.
No doubt we'll feel warmer.
Ianassa is a new design line that sounds like a tropical island, and is based on the serenity of spending the day at a spa in a place like the Seychelles or St Tropez.
As winter creeps in, we find the days getting longer and the nights getting colder as we pile on the layers for the winter months.
Had the Four Seasons arrived on the Caribbean island of Nevis before Christopher Columbus, the New World may have been different. Perhaps he would have fallen for the graceful way the pools are worked into the terrain. Maybe he would have been won over by the beach huts, where he and Nina could have enjoyed a most civilised day. If nothing else, he would have stayed for the rum punch served on the boat from neighbouring St Kitts.
Long ago, I decided that if I wasn't going to be the hottest girl on the beach, I was going to be the cutest. I never had the right body to be the hottest - not curvy enough, not skinny enough, but with good legs and breasts.
Heavens no, I don't mean the sand from your last jaunt to Spain. (Although the seashells from your trip to Florida's Gulf Coast look nice in that jar on your bookshelf.) I'm talking about palm trees. Inside your house.