A JETSETTER’S GUIDE TO…
Beware of crash diets, skintight minidresses and dodgy bottle tans, says Sally Howard. Instead, approach the beach season with a very European nonchalance
LADIES and lotharios, boys and beach babes, the bikini hour, once more, is upon us. It’s time to peel off that swaddling of super-sized cardies and discover what lies beneath.
Of course if, like most of us, you have a job/life/cake habit, and have spent your winter huddled at the urban periphery rather than sunning in St Barts, your investigations will probably unearth a milk-white expanse of flesh. In the mirror, in the pale light of day, your thighs are the colour of the tundra and your derrière appears to be the size of an average holiday gîte.
Mentally flashing forward to the flowing larva of your flesh laid bare in holiday snaps reminiscent of a Charlotte Church paparazzi spread, you rush to the kitchen cupboard. Raising a cloud of self-raising dust and lentils, you rummage desperately for a packet of Ryvita. Meanwhile, the realists among you will hotfoot it to M&S, to spend like a child of the depression on ‘miracle support pant’-fitted swimwear.
Yet, my well-cushioned compadres, could there be another way? Do Brits, in particular, betray themselves as somewhat lacking in le cool with their summertime obsession with High Street spraytan booths and slimming dinners the size of Post It notes?
“You won’t find Mediterranean women crazily buying diet books in early June,” says Spanish fashion journalist Lára Perez. “It’s about panache. If they’ve got it, they flaunt it, but rather than yo-yo dieting, they’ll keep trim year round. And they’d much rather invest in a flowing designer beach-wrap to conceal any flaws.”
Lynda Moultry, American author of 101 Plus Size Women’s Clothing Tips, reckons summer holidays are the time to let those wibbly bits breathe in the sea breeze. “It’s important to be comfortable, but it’s a real shame if you feel the need to cover up from neck to ankle on the beach. If you don’t like your tummy, buy a tankini to cover it up. If you hate your thighs, try a cute suit with a flirty skirt and matching sarong.”
Yet, there’s more to the stylish sunning lark than snapping up an Evans loyalty card and regressing to a penchant for tutus. If you fancy looking hot stuff in hotter climes, it’s time to bin those shouty women’s holiday advice spreads (“stain your limbs the shade of a ’70s fitted wardrobe unit!” “10 ways to starve yourself into a sourfaced sod the width of a Gauloise!”) and, instead, nibble on JetAway’s alternative guide to becoming a bonafide Euro beach babe…
COLOUR ME BEACH-BEAUTIFUL
As Oscar Wilde put it, the health of a nation depends largely on its mode of dress. This being the case, Brits are worryingly subject to seasonal bouts of collective colour blindness. Even demure dressers persist in arriving on foreign beaches squeezed into neon mini-dresses that fit like sausage skins, looking one part Tina Turner, two parts Cosmogirl. Leave the ’80s revival to those better blessed by the lottery of life (smooth olive skin, smoother attitude). Dark browns and greens beat harsh blacks in beachwear, and yellows – however trendy – belong at Disneyland, not on the Costa del Sol.
NAKED TRUTHS
Thinking of hitting the beach ‘as nature intended’? Thirtysomethings among us may well remember the Scandinavian-made sex education video of the early 1980s, which screened to impressionable souls in classrooms across the continent. Hairy man and woman – naked, frankfurter-brown, and with various swinging body parts grazing their respective knees – larked around on the beach, playing a coquettish bat and ball game, as a voiceover lugubriously detailed their anatomical differences. If you missed it, next time you’re shopping for meat, dwell a while on the most despondent-looking turkey in the window. And pay heed would-be naturists: it’s no wonder generation “Y” spent its teens in baggy clothes deafening itself with earbleed music.
ALL THE TRIMMINGS
“Beach accessories always work,” says Lynda Moultry, “even with beachwear. Find a large straw bag for all of the stuff you are lugging around. Buy sunglasses in every colour of the rainbow. And a wide-brimmed straw hat adds an air of sophistication to any outfit.” Beware though, all you would-be Joan Collinses: trimming yourself up as if you’ve been covered in glue and rolled around in Claire’s Accessories may work by a pool with a retinue of stylists on hand but it’s not quite the thing if you intend to get near the real seaside.
A ROSE BY ANY OTHER SHADE
Smear yourself in bottle-tan as a holiday preparation and – nine times out of ten – you’ll wind up looking as if you’ve been in a wet tea bag fight. To be on the safe side, get a pro booth-spray, and opt for a roast chicken shade, rather than rare beef.
HAIR TODAY
Kaftans, terracotta smocks, floaty headscarves – the hippy look is a perennial beach favourite. Hippy chic, however, can be taken too far. There’s no point lifting up a wafty, silk-clad arm to display a matted brillo pad hanging beneath your armpit. Gents, if you’re the sort of man forced to shave a semicircular neckline into your chest, time to give this look a wide berth, too.
GREASE IS NOT THE WORD
Many Mediterranean sun worshipers still indulge carrot-oil style sun unguents – giving a well-peopled European beach the air of a sausage pan at a busy greasy spoon. The oil often doesn’t stop at a full body-lathering, either, with products aplenty offering to slick down unruly hair in the manner of a 1920s silent-movie Casanova. Of course, all-body waterproofing may have its benefits, more likely, though, that you’ll
be top-to-toe breadcrumbed by sand, like a giant cod fillet. So in matters of sun oil, we say stick to your Boots creams – our Continental cousins have got it all wrong.
THE ART OF LE PICNIQUE
Most British adults will have spent a proportion of their formative years wrapping their numb fingers around grit-battered jam sandwiches behind a windbreak on a British prom. But that’s not to say a washed-out ice-cream box filled with hardboiled eggs and a wireless tuned into Radio Two is a workable look when you make it to the Med. Fresh bakery bread nonchalantly torn and handed around your famille is more the thing, perhaps with a selection of charcuterie and a huge wheel of brie? And remember to display your picnic picturesquely on a football-pitch sized rug (natural fibres, naturellement).
BOYS, BOYS, BOYS
For men – more prone to treating their bodies like pasty, pot-bellied machines designed to carry vast quantities of cheap beer – beach style can be problematic. Comfort has its place, but it’s unacceptable to travel to a foreign country looking as if you’re there to unblock the drains. Similarly, whatever the retro appeal of Speedos, only males yet to develop a chest-rug can happily work the look. To impress the ladies, be at one with nature: butterfly powerfully through the waves, rescue a struggling child, and adopt the lean bearing and far-off gaze of someone whose natural home is the great outdoors… Just duck before you get thwacked in the head by an errant Frisbee.
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