Staples, I’m going to need you to stand the hell back with that “Back to School” deal.
Bed Bath & Beyond, don’t you dare bring up shower caddies right now.
Target, you released a “study haul” commercial in JULY. No pun is so clever that it should invade the middle of my summer.
Gap…okay, your commercial made me well up with emotions. You stay.
But everyone needs to cool it the fuck out with “since fall is almost here/summer’s nearly over” BS scare tactics. This is getting RIDICULOUS.
There are 31 days in August and 21 days of summer in September. September 22nd is the last official day and by then you’ll be all juiced up for pumpkin spice shit and a cool breeze.
But are you counting?
That is EIGHT.
WEEKS.
OF SUMMER.
I blame Instagram for making us too hyper-aware of the calendar. We’re so consumed by “Monday’s got me like” and “Fri-yay” posts that we constantly know what day it is. Did you know what day it was when you were a kid mid-summer? Did you even ever know what time it was?
No! And you were a kid so you were not drunk.
Speaking of which, I blame all of us for taking proper showers instead of using pools, lakes and oceans as our main source of hygiene.
I also blame every e-commerce store who’s chosen to feature “suede booties” on its homepage. No one needs suede booties in August, and potentially not ever because I think we all still have a pair from yesteryear. Get those suede booties out of here, immediately. Run along, suede booties. It’s past your bedtime.
I blame our vigilant sunscreen use. Honestly I do. I’m so glad we’re protecting our skin but sunburned Steve in the office used to be a nice reminder of a summer still here, and now he’s so SPF-responsible that I keep thinking it’s winter.
I blame fashion for making flip flops a thing, because their *thwak thwak* sound used to act as a summery mating call; now it’s just another shoe on the sidewalk.
I blame press releases that hope to get fall products considered in time for publishers’ deadlines. I blame publishers for having deadlines because that feels very un-summer. I blame stores for needling into consumers’ anxiety, convincing us that by the time we really need something, it will be gone in our size.
I blame every restaurant without outdoor seating!!!
But most of all, I blame us. This is our attitude, our problem. We perpetuate the narrative that summer is over once July 4th ends, then we harp on it until it’s actually over. However, just as we have the power to accidentally shut down summer, we have the power to make it last. So today, a call to action: Let’s come together and celebrate that it’s still summer, and that we’ve got a while until it’s not.
Ask people how their summer is going and remark on how long the days are. Slap pink zinc on your nose to run errands. Either go commando or wear a swimsuit — but never underwear. Bring back straw hats. Wear sandals to important meetings. Don’t turn on a TV unless it’s absolutely necessary and avoid commercials at all costs. Put your phone on airplane mode and after work, shut your computer off. Drink a god damn margarita, virgin or not.
We can do this, but we have to do it as a team. SO WHO’S WITH ME? Share your grand plans for expanding the season down below and let’s jump the hell on it.
Photo by Louisiana Mei Gelpi.
