The Olympic Games. It’s here and I’m sleepless in anticipation. Outside my sash, day is breaking and central London is oh so quiet, nursing a kind of calm-before-storm upper-lip stiffy. I’ll be heading into the melee daily, reporting from the sidelines, tearing up at feats of the super-human and screeching for my teams. Australia. Great Britain. France. Italy. In no particular order (except for my homeland reigning supreme, of course). And sure, I could wear all those colours at once, but I’m more of a blend-into-the-canvas kind of woman these days. I know of no nation that dons chambray and seersucker, so I think I’m safe with something like this.
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Image via Temp Files.