May is upon us. In exactly three days, the falsely pegged May Flowers, which come in the wake of April Showers by way of the nursery rhymes of yore will not start blooming but we will watch for them. And as we do that, we will likely also consider that with May comes the rancorous preparations for June.
If you are passively reading, it is likely that you’ve skimmed passed the adjective “rancorous” without so much as thinking twice. If you are reading more actively, the changes are higher that you’re wondering why in the good name of perfect, San Diego-esque weather I would describe the preparations for the month of June as anything less than delightful.
But there is a third option here. You could be reading attentively and have still glossed over the word in question without giving it much thought.
This, I assume, is probably because you’ve been the victim of at least a handful of June weddings. And every woman who has had to forfeit her right to basking in the romance of early summer weekends for the sake of not just attending a wedding you probably shouldn’t have been invited to in the first place, but feeling victimized by a strange urgency to wear a frustratingly awful dress, understands fine and well that with that experience comes only resentment.
Kate says that if you feel a cold coming on, you should immediately down a spoonful of elderberry syrup to nip your ailment in the bud and promote immunity. I say if you feel a wedding that is not your own coming on, you should nip the anxiety in the bud by subscribing to a suggestion outlined in this post: forget the dress. Why don’t you try a long skirt with a button up blouse you already own, love and have found has never once let you down?
If you can already tell you’ll probably hate the food they’ll serve, you can take a lunchbox masquerading itself as an “avant-garde handbag,” too.
Then, you’ll dance the night away.
CH Carolina Herrera blouse and skirt (these ones by Alice and Olivia are pretty solid too, as is this Rick Owens one, which is on sUpEr SaLe), Oliver Peoples sunglasses (similar Asos pair right hurr), Mark Cross handbag. Photos by Matt Borkowski