WHY SLEEPING OUTSIDE IS FUN

I slept outside last night, for the first time ever. Of course I have fallen asleep outside on numerous occasions (think campfire and a huge doses of wine), but really in a bed in the open air that was a first. The idea kind of materialized out of despair, we were in a beach house and our children were all piled up in our bed, one that could hardly be called king-sized. In the category ‘adorable’ and ‘ look at them laying there so cozily’ my love and I decided to spend the night on the lounge set out on the patio.

I heard the rustling of the waves, the gulls flying overhead (and no I was not afraid of their droppings on my bed as I was clever enough to fold out the awning) and I felt a fresh sea breeze on my cheeks.

Waking up at 05.15 am, the sun comes up here that early, I felt fit as a fiddle. Not fit enough to dive into the ocean (maybe tomorrow) but otherwise intensely happy.

Could it be that deep within me there’s a primitive me pushing the fashionesta me from the throne? Could it? A few Chanel bags anyone?