I don’t think I will ever get used to Melbourne weather, especially in spring. So far this week we have had chilly, windy, wet days where all I wanted to do was hibernate by the fire, and a beautiful, blue-skied, warm balmy early summer Sunday where the garden was a sanctuary.
Putting away the overcoat is safe enough in mid-October, but even now there are evenings where closed-in shoes and a scarf round your neck is necessary going out in the evening. We nearly died of the cold in St. Kilda Sea Baths last Saturday for Bryony’s going away drinks. A courtyard by the bay with live reggae music sounds great, but with the wind coming straight off the Antarctic into my glass of wine I was glad of my ballet pumps, dress, trousers and full-length cardigan.
So today I undertook the ritual of the Emergence Of The Summer Wardrobe. With limited space, I have to retire my winter wardrobe into a suitcase in late spring, and do the same with the floaty tops and linen trousers sometime in May. The ritual is the same every year:
- Remove and fold all winter-type clothing from wardrobe.
- Stand on step-ladder and extract space bags from suitcase, throwing them onto the bed far below.
- Chuck all summer clothing onto the bed for sorting.
- Put away all winter clothing into space bags and put into suitcase in high-up cupboard.
- Stand in underwear sifting through summer clothes, trying things on to figure out if you are in “fat” or “skinny” summer wardrobe this year (for the record, I am in “fat” wardrobe for 2008-09 season).
- Happily move the box of lunghis to the front of the wardrobe, and move the box of full-length cardigans and wooly wraps to the back.
- Take the box of lunghis down again, and sort them by colour.
- Throw away half your foundation garments because they no longer fit.
- Stand in horror at the amount of ironing you now have to do.
- Spend leisurely half-hour sorting out shelves and re-discovering floaty tops purchased at end of last season.
- Sigh heavily and plug in iron.
- Plough on through until the last of the linen is crisp, fresh and hanging invitingly in wardrobe.
The other fun part of this ritual is the Emergence Of The Summer Shoes. Spangly flip-flops, my favourite as you know, of every colour. Silver slingbacks that one cannot walk far in, but which look Fabulous. Peep-toes. Impossibly high strappy black sandals (oh how I have missed you). I remove them from their Pink Lily See-Through Boxes, stroke them lovingly, and stack them carefully on the wardrobe floor with the others. Summer is here. I am ready.