I consider myself a very frugal person.
Up until a few days ago I had not bought a single item of clothing in three and a half months. Count them. Three and half months; that's 14 weeks or 98 days or even (approximately) 2352 hours.
Now this may make the average Huffington Post fashionista take a breath in horror/amazement at that but the unholy alliance of having nearly every single one of my most expensive valuables either break, get lost or stolen on student budget, soaring energy bills (thanks to an evil energy company and wasteful housemate) and the spectre of graduate unemployment looming over my head held the purse strings tight over winter.
However, although my money situation is improving I was still reluctant to part with my cash out of a long standing need to ensure I have at least two months' rent stored up in the bank.
This all changed when the sun came out. Suddenly the ice cold grip over my debit card melted at the sight of floaty green dresses and cyan blue wedges and resulted in a £50 binge, two hour binge in the Bullring Shopping Centre in Birmingham.
This may not seem like much but this is the rough equivalent of a week's rent for me.
There is something about summer that makes the spendthrift in me take a vacation. I have always hated Winter and its associated fashion trends. I hate bulky coats, I hate boots and hate black and grey most of all.
The return of summer means the return of colour. The return of being able to go outside without covering every inch of flesh from the perils of wind and ice. The return of sun screen instead of lip salve.
What could be greater than that?
Summer is when my mood lifts and I actually enjoy living in Britain for once. I can stop worrying about the endless pile of work I have to do, money I don't have and the unflattering, bulky layers of fabric that I have to drape myself in. I no longer have to live in fear of my knuckles spontaneously bleeding if I forget my gloves when I leave the house (as happened this winter on more than one occasion).
The prospect of pub gardens, rose and sunbathing makes parting with the student loan suddenly seem worth it.
Winter fashion is too bland, too black and grey, too functional to ever excite my imagination. The colour, the fabrics and the indescribable dazzle of summer fashion reminds us that style is about the pursuit of something beautiful.
Clothing for cold days is too much about looking smart for work, keeping warm and keeping dry to ever inspire my love of fashion. Fashion is designed to complement and enhance whatever beauty in the world, for me this is impossible in the cold, dead and dark days of winter.
So here's to the sun; coming out and breathing life and beauty back into our wardrobe. Only having looked out of the window this morning to the slight drizzle outside I can only cross my fingers and toes that it'll continue.
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