'Why I'’m Pleased To Be Packing Up My Summer Wardrobe'

Coats are just lovely says writer Dolly Alderton

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Can you hear that pitter patter of magical tiny drops of hope? YES! That's right! The rain has come! The prosecco is finished! The heat wave is over! RIP summer – you were fun while you lasted.

While everyone mourns the sudden death of Pimm's and cold burnt burgers in someone's grotty garden season, I am rejoicing.

Because secretly, I'm pretty pleased to be packing up my summer wardrobe, and here's why:

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I miss tights

Since May, I've been getting through Gilette disposable razors at an alarming pace and I can't wait to cross them off my shopping list. All those ingrown hairs. All that horrible turquoise plastic, cluttering up around the bath ledge. I miss tights. Tights hold you in and keep you warm and make your legs look slim. I'm in love with tights and we've been in a long distance relationship for months now – me in the disposable razor aisle of Boots, they in the very bottom of my drawer. Come home to me, tights. I'm ready for you.

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No more wedding outfits

Every Saturday, the same dilemma. Dress or separates? Heels or no heels? Are bare shoulders acceptable in a church? Who wears a hat and when do I take it off? How good will the food be, will I eat too much to wear bodycon? Will there be any guest cross-over from the last wedding and will they remember this crepe duck egg jumpsuit? Does anyone even notice what I wear? Does anyone ever notice me? When will I finally get off with someone at a wedding like everyone says I will? WILL I EVER GET MARRIED AND DO I EVEN WANT TO?

Coats

The king (and often the most expensive component) of the wardrobe. Coats are just lovely, aren't they? A chic, grown-up coat can transform any outfit from rubbish to perfect. They're magic. And I've been without my slim cut, double-breasted, heavy black wool coat for too long and I can't wait for our beautiful reunion.

Knowing where you stand

Not to seem like I'm the sort of nutty hippie who has a relationship with the seasons, but yes I'm a nutty hippie who has a relationship with the seasons. With Autumn – you know where you stand. It presents itself truthfully from the off. The crispness you feel when you wake up is the same temperature it will be mid-afternoon. The rules of Autumn are clear – eat baked potatoes, drink red wine, always take a scarf, buy an umbrella. But the British summer is about as confusing as the seasons get. At lunchtime it's raining, at tea time it's boiling hot. In the morning it feels like flip flop weather, in the evening you're standing outside a pub in a hail storm, being pestered by drunk men asking you over and over again why you're dressed like you're on Ko Samui. I can't handle the mixed signals of summer any longer - it's hot then it's cold, it's yes then it's no, it's in then it's out, it's up then it's down, and so on.

A return to high-end

Looking like an expensive, classy lady in summer is incredibly difficult. Sundresses and denim cut-offs may be cute but they're not particularly elegant. However, from October to February, unless you're wearing rosary beads and cheese grater distressed jeans, it's impossible to look cheap. Layered jersey tops, polonecks, thick tights, OH MY. Deck a woman out in the right budget knitwear and berets and she'll look like she's strolled straight out of a Nancy Myers film.

Boys look better in jumpers

It takes quite a man to pull of a short sleeved shirt or a cut-off with panache and the average British man, I'm afraid, isn't one of them. I just don't fancy men in summer regalia. I like men with thick bears and thick lapels; in boots and jeans and scarves. Autumn will return and so will my libido.

Dolly is writer, journalist, filmmaker and the @TheSTStyle's dating columnist. Follow her on Twitter @dollyalderton

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