Brat Summer: I Lived It
Be it the work of fate, common sense, or the gods of hot girl summer, the majority of my friend group found itself single this summer (I was never not single, but I rejoiced in welcoming more to my ranks). This happy circumstance coincided with the emergence of “brat summer,” a phenomenon born of the oontz oontz of Charlie XCX’s new album and championed by hot girls everywhere. Also synonymous with “hot girl summer" for all intents and purposes. And for the intents and purposes of this post, allow me to assert forthwith that a cornerstone of brat summer is its ambiguity; the execution of it is totally open to interpretation, as long as you’re embodying the right energy.
Like the rest of our ilk, my friends and I embraced brat summer with open arms. The weeks of our summer have blurred into an endless expanse of sun-drenched mornings at farmers markets and tequila-drenched nights in dimly-lit bars. We’ve lived with abandon, cramming in as many carefree days as we can before the chill of winter cuts through our frenetic haze.
I’ll admit that I’m biased, but I’d venture to say that I’ve done brat summer justice. I think I’ll look back on my diverse portfolio of brat-coded activities with satisfaction (once again, I’ll remind you that brat is a state of mind. Doing your laundry can be brat if you go about it the right way). And thus, as it nears its close (heavy on “nears,” because don’t get it twisted: brat summer is not over!!!), I present to you for inspiration, a recipe for brat summer, Ellie's version:
A digital camera
A film camera
A bigger purse so you can bring both cameras on a night out
A trip to a new city
As many rooftop BBQs as you can muster
A drawer full of tiny tops you can dance around in without sweating too much at the bars
A couple of new dainty tattoos
Simone de Beauvoir’s The Woman Destroyed
A pair of chic black sunglasses to wear out to the bars (and subsequently, to have stolen by a man you’ll share a few hours of pleasant conversation with and probably never see again)
A string of chunky freshwater pearls, pulled from the murky depths of an overflowing vintage store in the suburbs
Gracie Abrams. Lots of Gracie Abrams.
Also Chappell Roan on repeat, obviously
Okay, so listening to “Brat” should go without saying here but I’ll include it for the sake of the rule of three
A glass of orange wine on a patio on a Wednesday evening
A homemade board game to play with your friends whenever and wherever it suits you
Just for the Summer by Abby Jimenez (or any beachy romance to offset the existential spiral that The Woman Destroyed will throw you into)
The chef at your favorite local cafe learning your order by heart
Writer’s block :/
A text that reads, “want to go to a bookstore??”
A follow-up text that reads, “and let’s get coffee first.”
Ice cream at Annette’s on Sunday nights
3 pairs of slingback heels: 1 neutral color, 1 bright color, 1 funky pattern
“Love Island USA” Season 6
A full SATC rewatch
Letting your hair go natural in an attempt to channel Carrie (in her chic, stylish moments, not the annoying ones)
Several new photo booth strips on your fridge
A saved folder full of summer activities you’ll never get to because there just aren’t enough days of the week. Save them for next year.
Friends to do it all with!
Go forth and be brat!
xo, Ellie
