I love stories. Films, books… They all tell stories. And you know I love them dearly. There are also the bed-time-stories – the books my son and I both adore and which I have absolutely no problem reading for the 1,000th time (even if they are sometimes resumed to one favourite paragraph or another which I have to read ten times over, putting me to sleep much faster than my two-year-old). There are the style stories, too, not those just for the sake of style, but the living-your-style kind of stories I have been featuring lately, of wonderful, amazingly talented and beautiful (inside and out) people.
But personal stories are those I probably love the most. That may sound funny, coming from a very private person. But the stories I am talking about are not those you find on social media, they are neither those you find on blogs, nor even in books, but those you hear and tell at filled-with-laughter family gatherings, at long, casual, noisy dinners with your friends, over a glass of wine or two with someone you’ve just met but feel you’ve been friends your entire lives. Your most inner stories, your most cherished memories, because these are, as photojournalist José Cordero Iza so sincerely said in our recent interview, “personal moments that are magical, and I keep them for me”.
And what better time for story making and telling than summer? Just like in childhood, when the best things seemed to happen during the summers (which, in my case, were largely spent in the countryside at my grandparents or on mountain hikes and climbing with my brother and parents) and would be recounted the whole year until the next summer. Today, things have changed a little. Everyone, even children, travel year-round, there is always something to “share”, to show, but Summer still retains something a little more special, even when you don’t take an amazing trip, even when nothing special seems to happen, even when you wish summer was over because you physically and mentally can not go through another heat wave. But the truth is you don’t want it to end, not even if it puts you through temperature hell.
That’s because Summer in itself is special. It is the time when you don’t have to wake up early in the morning, but you do so regardless, at sunrise, without any plans for the day ahead, but with a sense of wander. When you can find joy in the everyday and contemplate the unknown with the same enthusiasm. It is this hallucinatory combination of emptiness and endless possibility, this transitional time between past and future, a time when you let things go and prepare for new challenges, a ripe time for misbehaviour, but for pushing your limits, too, a time for childlike fun and games and dreams, a time when the only thing on your mind can be the heat, a time of discovery, a time when you let yourself just be.
It was on a summer night of a long weekend in the country (the best there is) last month when I decided to order this Giles & Brother cuff (which I did, right then and there) as a little something to remind me of all the reasons why I love summer. Something tactile to remind me of the magic of summer, something subtle to remind me of the exuberance of summer. It feels very personal, crafty with just the right rough-hewn finish, statement-worthy without standing out, an “enduring addition to the wearer’s personal narrative”. And it is a railroad spike cuff, so summer appropriate.
photos by me