Last night I attempted to cycle home in the light drizzle, making my escape from the city, dressed in nothing but a black chiffon dress and tailored crop jacket. The drizzle soon turned into heavy rain, bouncing up of the ground, hitting my face, spraying from my tyres, past my ill-placed water guard and up my back, puddles and streams appeared on the ground. For twenty minutes I cycled, pausing only briefly at Maiden so Noah my housemate could laugh at me. Something primeval happens when the weather takes over, my body accepts what's happening and starts to almost enjoy the situation, it becomes humorous, invigorating. I felt cleansed, my mind conjured images of rebirth, baptism and the hot shower waiting for me at home. I recommend getting drenched through at least once a season, it helps put things into perspective and makes you appreciate being warm and dry.
Boot campees sharing a similar perspective, albeit a more painful one
How wet my dress actually was, not sure the photo does it justice
Ah warm and dry, my room is a little haven of love, flowers £5 from Columbia Road, not bad eh
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