I can wax poetic clichés about summertime for hours, calling out its infinite benefits such as FroYo as breakfast, rosé as water, and denim shorts as a uniform, yet I will save us all the energy and get straight to the point. Above anything else, summer is a three-month promiscuity free pass, in which you and are exempt from consequences and repercussion by the law of heat wave and summer brain, a universal rule if there ever was one. Since it expires in merely a month, its time to wake the F up and take action. So if you haven’t done any of these things yet, do at least 5 this weekend, preferably simultaneously!
Kiss a stranger. This isn’t something I shouldn’t have to tell you, as summertime is practically synonymous to kissing strangers anyway. If you are single, this mission should be engrained in your brain and become your number one priority at the strike of happy hour, apéro hour, tapas hour, or whatever your daily alcohol consumption stems from. Spot a stranger at the bar, flash him a Cheshire grin and take a swing of your margarita – the rest is history!
Disappear on the stranger. For optimal results, pull a Cinderella number on him afterwards, escaping with barely-a-trace and igniting an unquestionable spark of interest within your new conquest. I did this all the way back in May and have been paying the consequences ever since, hence I am now a rather big proponent of this old-as-Disney method.
Pull an all-nighter. For a best practice example, look no further than moi circa Ibiza last summer, preferably in a slutty white dress that no amount of dry cleaning will fix, preferably winding up on a beach with coconut shells masquerading as a bra. This summer, I exploited this mission in Tokyo back in June, when myself and two other psychopaths schlepped from Hotel Okura to the local Le Baron, recharging with 7/11 sake and finally sneaking into the Tsukiji fish market. My Celine shoes still smell like fish, but it was all well worth it.
Have yourself a staycation. If possible, on a holiday weekend, when most people are out of town. Its actually one of the most fun things you can do, as it weeds out the majority of the city’s inhabitants and leaves the rest wandering around, hungry for a random sketchy encounter. Explore your city with the same gusto a tourist would, and grand things could happen!
Do something (or many things) you will regret. Tell your boss to sod off. Get your lover’s face tattooed on your arm. Take MDMA for the first time and let the wind chimes lead you to the nearest hip hop bar, where you dance until 5am and then eat African food with a stranger. Best yet, follow the lead of our reader Freja and channel your inner Demon for a debaucherous little tryst!
Go on a road trip. If nobody is willing to come with you, tie em’ up and strap em’ in!
Wear something ridiculous. While I am generally of the “live summer in denim underwear” mentality, this year I have decided to step an inch out of my comfort zone and brave the world of skirts over culottes, granny bikinis and other man repelling trends. Face your fears, let your freak flag fly, and wear your pajama top to dinner – or better yet, on a date. Trust me, you will thank yourself when the arctic blizzard re-descends on this earth in 6 months and you will be vacuum-sealed in Canada Goose yet again.
Drink yourself into an obliterate hangover. Ah, the sophistication level of my advice.. And yet, there is something morbidly beautiful about that one hangover, the kind where you wake up next to a pizza box and the office walls begin caving in on you by 10am, and memories of singing an ode to the deli guy sweep over you as you test out how long you can nap in the bathroom without anyone noticing.
Do something in da nude. No, not necessarily that, although I do believe that summertime should equal an abundance of that as well. Skinny dip on city property, flash a stranger from the car window, stage a Pussy Riot, IMPROVISE!
….Fall in love? Summer Brain talking, guys. The cynicism is leaving the body at lightning speed, causing me to actually experience withdrawals. Don’t give up on me too soon thought – given my track record, this too, shall pass!