Every year I dread it. And every year it comes. 

Friday was the first day of summer. That means beaches, picnics and long drives down abandoned roads, right? Wrong.

It means tourists, noise and way too much Hollister. Let's get this out there right now: I am one of those people who happens to look better with their clothes on. There are lots of us. We're usually quiet, unassuming and immaculately dressed. Until summer comes. 

Flip-flops hurt my feet. I have awkward legs, which I like to cover with comfortable, full-length denim. I stay almost dangerously thin, regardless of how much I eat. This rules out tank-tops. I'm not even a big fan of t-shirts. And I know most people dream of being bronzed like a greek god, but I think tans are tacky. 

To combat my disillusions of summer I have come up with a new look for warm weather: Miami Vice. 

At least I don't have to wear socks anymore.