My Sweaty Underboob.

“Mad Dog and Englishmen go out in the Midday Sun”

British people find it virtually impossible to cope with any sort of weather.. Cold, hot, wet, windy. God forbid HUMID.

It is just not within our capabilities as humans. We Brits, love to moan about the (lack of) warmth, rain or sunlight, but we just fall apart when we have to experience it. I guess when they handed out the coping mechanisms, we got the stiff upper lip and the ability to create a variety of dishes out of Spam. We did not, get the ability to dress appropriately, calmly conduct ourselves at an outdoor barbeque, or use public transport to travel distances further than 100 yards.

Because Britain is a country buit on moderation. Much in the same way we are practically the only nation unable to embrace 24-hr drinking, we simply are illl equipped for things like lots or rain, or a temperatures in the 20’s. For Britain to function without a hitch, we would require constant moderation, moderate temperatures, moderate outdoor sporting events and yes, moderate Summer.

I am half-Indian, I tan like a motherfucker and embrace the heat as an essential requirement for my wellbeing, but this week even I have been lying ontop of my duvet, with ice cubes down my bra, wishing I was dead. This Summer, has been a long time coming and if you follow any sort of social media you will know how much it was longed for. Oh how we longed for it!

But then, it arrived and with it the growing realisation that WE ARE BRITISH. By the Summer we really just mean a dry day where we can comfortably watch some Tennis and possibly have some booze in an outdoor situ. Anything above and beyond that simply flummoxes us, especially when the realisation dawns on us that we are actually expected to WORK, LIVE AND SLEEP in this heat. As a nation of moderation, our transport systems are just not equipped to deal with excessive heat and the only real indoor spaces that have factored aircon as a necessity generally come from the US or have been recent additions to our British towns and cities.

The British also posess a unique approach to the weather by dressing really fucking badly. Since I have been sitting here writing this, I have seen 4 men who really should keep their shirts on. A Woman with a grey marl dress (hello sweatpatches) and everywhere, those God-awful shorts which force the wearer to make the choice between exposing camel foot or butt cheek. Dressing for the heat should not be a tradeoff you make with your Vagina.  On the flip side of this phenomenon are those who simpy refuse to accept the weather is happening, this type of person can be found sporting 40 denier black tights, or a suit jacket on the morning commute, usually sipping a (hot) coffee. I find this “Da FUQ?” attitude quite endearing. Keep Calm and Sweat like a Bitch.

I suppose it is kind of sweet how we embrace this heat with such gusto, for a country I say seems to thrive on moderation, we sure as hell go pretty mental once the sun comes out. Perhaps it is because we see so little of the daylight and feel so little of the sun’s rays that we behave this way. I am not sure any other country mark the warmer months with a mad trolley dash to Asda or a 4 hr car crawl to find a paddling pool. This gusto is also reflected in our inability to tan. No, we Brits must BURN our skin, we must make up for all the 363 days of rain we get and expose our pallid bodies to 48 hrs worth of pure damage. If I hear one more person say “Oh the red is turning brown!” as they slather on the Margerine, I will weep. Add to this our refusal to keep properly hydrated (a true Brit will drink cider or warm Fosters only) Only last week did I see a woman at the walk in centre who’s skin was lifting off in great sheets because she thought “Factor 4 would be ok” COME ON BRITAIN.

Of course, I myself am not immune. I have been grumbling about the heat just as much as everyone else. I especially hate sweating. I feel like the back of my neck and behind my knees will never be dry again but the worst by a long way is the scourge of the sweaty underboob..

It seems like you cannot have DD boobs without them being permanently wet underneath. Just yesterday I was considering resorting to putting a panty pad underneath there by way of something absorbent. We Brits may not be cool in the heat but GODDAMN are we resourceful!

What are you doing to keep cool in this heat? Tell me!!

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My Sweaty Underboob.

One thought on “My Sweaty Underboob.

  1. Hahahaha this is SO true…since emigrating to Melbourne (which doesn’t really even get that hot by aussie standards) I have realised that we Brits don’t really know the meaning of hot lol We are bracing ourselves for our first aussie summer in the mid 40s this year! I shall let you know if we survive it.

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