Surviving summer when you don't like your limbs

Hooray! It’s finally here! Summer, the season of festivals, holidays and license to eat endless Cornettos is upon us, and aren’t we all just overjoyed? In some respects, yes – but I’d be slightly more thrilled if my upper arms didn’t look like they were made of cottage cheese.

My wings and I have had a hate hate relationship since my early teens, when I realized that they had expanded into dimpled messes about three times the size of that of my peers and I could no longer get away with the Tammy Girl racerbacks of my youth. I made a vow to stay cardigan-clad at all times, and since then, the words strappy and (god forbid) bandeau have struck pure unadulterated fear into my heart. 

I get arm envy like other people get hair or outfit envy – a glimpse of a toned, healthy looking bicep is enough to make me stop mid-sentence and ponder how the Adonis-like creature before me cultivated such a work of beauty. This is NOT a weight or a fat shaming thing - I’ve seen women with arms twice the size of mine that look like they’re made of beautiful glowing marble, but alas, we cannot all be so blessed. I’ve also tried several regimes/beauty products that promise to give me the sculpted branches of my dreams, but due to a combination of ineffectiveness and my own substantial laziness, it’s pretty unlikely that I’ll publicly wear anything without sleeves for the foreseeable future. 

However, having a strong (I repeat, STRONG) preference for being fully clothed at all times doesn’t mean I don’t get hot. I live in London, I take the tube - the world’s sweatiest, most revolting public transport system – on a daily basis, and more to the point, I like being outdoors. So how do I beat the heat without surrendering to the vest?

Crop tops

I know, I know. Hold the fucking phone. Until recently, I too was of the mindset that crop tops were a cruel joke invented by Topshop to remind us all that we're not catwalk ready or pre-pubescent. However, thanks to the glorious popularisation of the high waisted midi skirt, I am a complete crop convert, and can now experience an extra breeze around my midriff without exposing my non-abs to the world. I'm currently lusting after this embellished number, if anyone's got a spare £45.

Bardot tops

Basically a fancy extension of the crop, but sexier, allowing me to show a little more skin, but crucially, no more arm. Topshop have got a number of winners in this style too. I might end up weird tan lines, but at least I'll look 1960s fabulous whilst getting them.

Kimonos
Unlike cardigans, which tend to be knitted, kimonos (like this one from H&M) have a wonderfully lightweight, floaty vibe to them that makes me feel like elegant and regal, rather than a bit like a nana. Also flattering in button up shirts and full tops too.

Accessories
If a gun was held to my head and I had to wear something strappy, I'd ask if I could throw a scarf in as part of the deal. They hide a multitude of sins, because they fall right in front of the bits of my body I've spent half a lifetime bemoaning. I also live by the mantra of one thing bigger making everything else look smaller, so if you see me wearing a necklace bigger than my actual neck or toting a handbag that weighs more than I do around town, THIS IS WHY.

Learning not to give a fuck

Ultimately we all know that this is the answer. But I'm still working on it, and if you are too, that's okay.