So as the social media Trending areas, the Daily Mail sidebar of shame, or the news will have probably told you, the UK has been hit by no less than a weather bomb. You may be wondering what the France a weather bomb actually is, and you’re not alone. I can safely say that I too looked at the headlines and wondered whether Poseidon himself had decided to wage war on our little island. It would seem though, that although the media gang are referring to it as a bomb, we’re in fact just being hit by the usual miserable rainy weather that we’re used to, only a little more intense. Anti-climax or what?
I think we can all agree that us Brits have the tendency to be a little melodramatic. Even I am occasionally (all the time) guilty of over-exaggerating stuff for effect; I binned it after a few beverages on a recent night out and told anyone who would listen that I’d severed my achilles heel when in fact I was completely fine. The powers of hyperbole, however, seem to come as second nature for UK journalists. When hurricanes hit America, do you hear them being referred to as weather bombs? Alas, no.
As much as I have very intellectual and valid theories on why our mates down at the local news choose to whip us all into a frenzy over minor stuff, I’m not going to turn this blog into a discussion of conspiracy theories about the world around us (apart from the one where I’m part of the Truman Show, and Roy Cropper is a real guy). Instead, I’m going to have a good fucking moan about the wind.
Amidst this weather bomb, and the general shite weather conditions that the UK has to offer, there are a horde of angry women (and probably men) wishing that the wind would just do one. In fact, if the wind was a person, I reckon there’d be a queue of people ready to give it a swift flying headbutt.
Blustery conditions ruin just about any activity. No matter how on point your hair is when you leave the house, you can guarantee that on a windy day you’ll look like a porcupine the moment you brave the outdoors. Unlike the rain (which incidentally I also hate), there’s no hiding from the wind under your umbrella, unless you’re alright with looking like an idiot chasing it down the street.
So here’s a few tips from one long-suffering victim of the elements to the next; a weather bomb survival guide, if you like:
- Hair up for both men and women – the ‘I’ve just been repeatedly whipped in the face by my own locks’ look is really not a strong one
- Wear minimal mascara – when faced with a weather bomb (hahahaha), it’s more than likely that you’ll end up rocking the attractive streaky eyes so popular among absolutely nobody who wants to look half-decent. Do some damage control by sticking with minimal eye make up and, where possible, sheltering your eyes from the gales (with some swagged out shades).
- Avoid lipgloss at all costs – if you live in the UK, chances are that you’ve learnt this lesson for yourselves. For those who may be facing the elements for their first time, a word to the wise: do not wear anything sticky on your face. Lipgloss will act as a sort of sticky tape to anything which happens to be blowing by, including strands of your own hair, and even rogue insects (if you’re incredibly lucky).
- Scarf up – use the ‘adverse weather conditions’ (as they call them on the underground) as an excuse to don your finest garms. The more clothes you’re wearing, the more chance there is that you’re wearing at least one item of cool clothing, and layering is totally in this season (it’s fucking winter that’s why)
- Finally and most importantly, avoid the outdoors for as long as you can – the wonders of the internet have made it oh so easy to shop from your sofa, and although you might think you want to go and meet your old friend for a catch up, there’s also a whole world to explore in your own home. Take some selfies or something.
Don’t be fooled: the windswept and interesting look is not a winner.