Safari

It is hot here.

I grew up here, never lived anywhere much cooler, and yet I am always shocked by summer. Its sheer audacity is an affront to polite society. It is difficult to be decent–much less my usual level of genteel–in such oppressive heat. It inspires a brutality and vulgarity that are rarely seen in other seasons.

This year–possibly due to my advanced age–I was particularly caught off guard by its rudeness. A giant, flaming spotlight burst into my room around 7am, and brought with it another day of post-apocalyptic* hell. The air is scorched.

Don't be fooled by the lush greenery, it's hellish.

I longed to be outdoors. To walk, to run, to sit quietly on my porch. Even as I watched every outdoor surface struggle not to peel, melt, wither, or wilt, the pull of outdoor freedom strengthened. I ventured out in my standard uniform of jeans and a button-down shirt, only to retreat a few minutes later–drenched, defeated, dejected.

From the ashes of my pain rose a phoenix of style. I call it Safari.


I had a farm in Africa.

I couldn’t spend my entire summer lurking in the shadows, staying indoors.

The look consists, roughly of the following elements:

  • pair of khaki bermuda shorts–the first pair of shorts I have owned since childhood–casually rolled up
  • a white linen shirt, or a white tank top
  • an oxblood belt (the shorts are too large, and thus have to be belted, which lends itself to the whole look nicely)
  • a red bandanna, rolled up and tied around my neck
  • shoes differ, but are usually yellow gladiator sandals
  • Coming soon: a hat–I considered a pith helmet, but I am thinking something more along the Panama-style

There are also variations on the look:

  • Dress Safari: shorts can be substituted for a skirt, or bandanna can be substituted for a silk scarf; earrings can be added to take the look from day to evening.
  • Surf Safari {on occasion, one has to forsake the plains for the open seas}: white shirt replaced with a nautical stripe shirt; shoes are topsiders; nautical terms are used in conversation.

The sea is a cruel mistress.

Safari is more than just a look, it is a state of mind, a state of being. It combines an ease of mind with ruthless efficiency, ie “Could I kill a lion in these clothes?”**; “Can the hills of Africa sustain a coffee farm?”; “Give me that sandwich or I will shoot you with my elephant gun.”, etc.

Big game hunting aside, a change in style has done me good.

I wonder where I can buy a hat like hers?

*This post-apocalyptic world is more in the style of Mad Max, rather than The Road.

**Not that I would ever kill such a majestic creature, but if forced, would this be the appropriate outfit/state of mind.

This entry was posted on Friday, June 18th, 2010 at 3:28 pmand is filed under General Wildlife Knowledge, The Great Outdoors. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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