So, our second day was . . . well, okay, basically the same. Food, then tanning next to the pool. And if you consider that a waste then you’ve never had a burger worth eating, or seen my colour. That is something even Picasso would be proud of.
My outfit was something comfortable and small (this heat is insufferable – and you legitimately suffer it), so it’s perfect for traipsing around the hotel or chilling on the balcony without looking like a stripper or a drowned rat.
I love these shorts because they’re flattering, comfy and cheap as chips. You know those things you crave for years and, when you’re finally able to get them, you put off buying? These shorts were those things, until I found them for £8 and was like . . . why not – and I feel like that was a brilliant decision of mine. Well done, me. I’m so proud of you.
Now might be a good time to realise and think about the fact that all my best life choices involve the purchase of some form of clothing.
Feel bad about yourself yet, Mia? For being able to find extreme joy in the little things and be content and happy with what I’ve already got in life rather than buying things and thinking “onto the next one”? Yeah . . . I feel so terrible. That wasn’t even slightly the point and you knew it. But wasn’t my way so much better?
So my second nightly outfit was . . .
So, that night I actually kept with the flower theme by wearing a flower crown! Because this beautiful contraption (courtesy of Amber) was white, I decided to wear my white Missguided dress that I am in absolute love with.
I could write a sonnet about how much I love this dress, but I won’t because . . . well, that would be weird.
Oh, so now you realise? You know what, fuck you. I’m going to go and achieve my goddamn dreams.
Dear dress, do you know how I love thee?
Do you feel it through my heartbeat?
Believe my love to be true,
As the symbols you display reflect me too.
You are the sun you so boldly print,
And you don’t break the bank so one was not skint.
That wasn’t a fucking sonnet. You’re not a sonnet.
As you can see, my dress is covered in symbols – my symbols. I paired it with a bunch of metallic tattoos on my arms and (Amber’s) platforms for a hot night on the town.
Okay, I lied.
We went to a steak bar.
I don’t even like steak.
I had to order a chicken wing starter.