20th August 2007 - Summertime Well, here it is again: that depressing time of year. After realising I have not, in fact, any weight at all, the shock of now trying to squeeze myself into a bikini ready for my holiday next week is quite a traumatic ordeal. Of course, the freakishly unseasonable weather we’ve been having has not made matters any easier and my body has obviously felt it needs this layer of blubber more than ever to keep me from perishing.

However, I suspect this will not be the case when I am in Greece next week. Being fair skinned, this year I have sworn I will not get sunburnt, sunstroke or any other heat related illness, and so I have taken the plunge and bought myself a cowboy hat. After notifying my boyfriend, he laughed at me. Just laughed. Out loud. For a very long time. Infuriated, I gave him a lecture on why cowboy hats, with a few extra-long hair extensions, are a must-have this season. Ladies of Maesteg, I encourage you to buy as many cowboy hats as can possibly fit inside your suitcases and wear them with pride – for he who laughs wears flip-flops in winter, and is therefore in no position to be giving out styling tips.

After an application of fake tan and a couple of extra-long hair extensions, I do believe the cowboy hat looks about as good a sun-hat as I’m going to get. I’ve now thrown away the floppy Mickey Mouse hats and all the Winnie-the-Pooh base-ball caps that have been cluttering up my wardrobe since my mother has insisted I wear since I was five.

This holiday will be my first “Girls Only” holiday consisting five girlfriends; a friend whom I travelled to Slovenia with last year, two of her University friends from Birmingham – an accent that eludes me altogether, I honestly cannot understand a word they are saying – and a Dutch girl who we met whilst in Slovenia. (Her accent is a little patchy too; I'm predicting thriving conversations to thrive between the three of them.)

I often wonder how many other women feel this pre-bikini nervosa. I have plenty of friends who trot around merrily in their bikinis, nicely tanned and care-free. One girl quite happily has asked me to a hot-tub party, she obviously mistook the horror on my face for delight because it appears I will now be attending this party.

Not only do I have to deal pre-beach terror, I’m now going to a hot-tub party in my home-town, where it is more than likely people will actually see me again after the ordeal. This is combined with my fear of hot-tubs, since I’ve heard the bubble machine part sucks catches people’s hair and drags you under the water.

I’m trying to find excuses not to go, but in my head, I know this is an excuse for everyone to see my nicely toned friend in her bikini, that I am only being invited along as a decoy and no one is really going to take any notice of me. Therefore, I will be taking my cowboy hat. If nothing else it will act as a safety mechanism once I have been dragged under the water by my abnormally long hair extensions, they will know I have drown when it floats past them and hopefully they can then take necessary action to try and revive me.