Jun 28 - Veranito ‘17
By Stefano Blanca Sciacaluga
We are finally past the estival solstice and the days are getting shorter, which is a great thing, none of these super long days. The only downside is that from now on, and for another couple of months it’s disgustingly hot out in this city.
It wasn’t even Summer yet and people were already talking about it, but I guess it’s the same every year, there’s a good few days of Spring and people start calling it summer, then it’s that in-between time where people catch all the colds and then “oh, it’s a heatwave”; a heatwave that lasts from the second week in June to the second week in October.
At the first hint of a bit of heat Gibraltarians start taking their kit off. Everyone’s in a t-shirt, even when it’s chilly in the shade and straight up cold in the mornings and evenings. Two weeks later and it’s not difficult to spot English people and the odd Gibraltarian in shorts, clearly not having a good time but using the philosophy of “if I think I’m having fun, I’ll have fun”. Then one week later you start to see the first inspirational summer quotes accompanying photos of Catalan Bay con el agua tan fria que corta, “summer lovin’”, “all you need is a good dose of vitamin sea”. All of this, of course, followed by the Hell Centre hasta arriba de gente on Monday morning, after a brave tanning trip to Sandy. Toma antibióticos.
Finally after a great deal of skin peeling from extreme sun exposure - “Sandy toes, sun kissed nose” - and some seasonal confusion we finally get to the first day of Summer. Don’t be fooled, “summer is a state of mind”, and “every summer has its own story”, so Gibraltarians start getting ready to make their most of their Government Department Summer Hours to perform illegal manoeuvres down Winston Churchill Avenue and Devil’s Tower Road to make sure they are the first to burn the soles of their feet running to the shore at Eastern; repeating this every. single. day. until Winter Hours are back, essentially moving all daily activity beyond working hours to the beach, a marcar paquete y enseñar el six pack, which I already commented on here and here.
But being Mediterranean, and the kind of people que se apunta a un bombardeo, there are times we leave the beach, nos maqueamos, and we come to town, tribal-adorned guns out. And here is where I like the Gibraltarian most, this is the best thing about summer. Forget the beautiful evenings, forget the warm weather, forget not having to carry around layers: The best thing about this season is Gibraltarian Summer attire.
The first outfit change after permanently lounging about in short sleeves for a while is the shorts. And by shorts I mean anything from wide, nasty, dusty blue, short trousers (because you can’t classify trousers that just end above where your socks go as shorts) with a bunch of useless pockets, to the dudes that might as well be wearing Topshop jort hot pants, or the women with the bottom of their butts out.
And of course, once the shorts are out the talons follow. Because God forbid we take care of our feet during the Winter and the Spring. And that’s where I feel physically sick. Everyone’s got their nasty feet out, with the long nails and the cracked heels. In footwear, for women it’s a little more diverse, they wear all sorts, but with guys, Gibraltarian guys, there seems to be just the two options: A wide-banded sandal, in the style of the now fashionable sliders, but made out of pleather; or flip flops with a thick grey or black band, frayed at the edges. Goes really well with the aforementioned short trousers and a nice vest, the kind you wear on special occasions, with a dragon and “Chinese” script, everything, of course matching (or mis-matching) with the koi fish swimming up your arm. If you really want to complement this look how about a white trilby or fedora with a black band? And more perfume than Seruya. Classy! And of course, how could I forget, all rounded up by with some white, red or bright green Carrera sunglasses that make everyone look a little…
Don’t think I’ve forgotten the super tight chino short shorts fiends though! Pastel colours and half way up the thigh, with either awkwardly rolled up crisp white shirts (with a stain of tinto down the front by 1am) or short sleeves and ridiculously (and dangerously) tight around pumped biceps. Carrera also making money from these dudes too, when they’re in Banus on a Saturday night.
We try, we really do. We love the attention and we get it. We display ourselves like sweaty peacocks in the summer night, the moonlight shimmering off our talons, waxed chests out. From the shore of Eastern, to the toilet queue at Chatham Counterguard, to the cockfights outside Dusk to sitting in the bus stop by Gilberts. We live life to the fullest because “life is better in flip flops”, “salty vibes”, “good times and tan lines”, and “the tan lines fade but the memories will last forever” and we all know “summer always ends with good memories”.
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