Feeling sexy under seven layers of fleece

You know you live in England when your boyfriend trawls through your Facebook photos to find one in which your bare feet are actually showing.

Or you have a shower and you dedicate five solid minutes to greeting your upper arms, because you only see them for those 5 minutes of the day.  

To my heartbroken knees, thighs, upper arms, and basically anything that isn't my eyeballs and hands, this is my heartfelt apology.

I miss you guys so much. I haven't abandoned you. It's for your own sake that I've buried you under seven layers of fleece. 

Remember when we used to hang out on patio chairs, out in the humid breeze? 

I remember this one time I went for a walk to Pick n Pay and  my thighs were all like HEY daylight! We be looking sexy today!   

Sure, there were mosquitoes, but OH the skintastic freedom!  

It's hard to feel sexy when you lie down on your white duvet and your boyfriend can't find you.  

It's also hard to feel sexy if you have big boobs (!) because in winter, you're going to look as shapely as a seal, and as pregnant as a chav:

Eskimo baby mama seal

The locals (Bristolians, they are called) tell me that March is the month of rebirth, of greener fields, of doing a welcome back dance for your elbows. 

I sure hope so.