Lightening Strikes, Cloud-Like Bras and some Hot June Favourites
It’s a miracle I’m even alive! Let alone bringing you a monthly favourites post! Yes, readers, I can officially say that I survived the Great Somerset Lightening Storm of 2026. And I know that the whole of the UK witnessed the storm, pretty much, but I’m claiming it for us, here in the south west, because out of the 29,000 lightening strikes across the country, a whopping 18,540 of them were here!
At least 11,000 of those landed directly in front of my car, as I sat outside Magic in Motion dance school with the kids, waiting for the flash-flooding to subside and the torrents of water that were rushing down the hill to ease off.
Did you know that being in a car is one of the very safest places you can be, during a lightening storm? I know this because I frantically sat there Googling all about it as my terrified kids sat in the back seats, soaked through and shivering, mopping at their hair with a chamois leather and a McDonald’s napkin, the only two absorbent things I could find in the glovebox.
(Had it been the glovebox - or car boot - of my late teens and early twenties, it would have contained almost anything and everything you could possibly need in order to survive any brand of apocalypse. Zombie, nuclear, ice age, other. I virtually lived in my car in those years and at any one time had two full sets of clothes, at least four pairs of shoes, bits of rope, approx a hundred plastic bags, cutlery, at least four packets of Marlboro lights, seven litres of Diet Coke, a towel, a duvet, coat hangers, tins of John West Tuna Light Lunch (shelf life 80 years), loose change down the sides of the seats and under the carpets to the tune of around thirty quid, three disposable lighters, a small, battery-powered alarm clock, a Collins Road Atlas and a six-disc CD multichanger filled with the newly-released album from Ministry of Sound, Now 43, Madonna’s Immaculate Collection, Mariah’s Number 1’s, something by Ma$e and the soundtrack to Rush Hour. (Was surprisingly good, at the time.)
Anyway, the car is one of the safest places to be in a lightening storm because - I quote Google - “a car with a metal frame and roof acts as a partial Faraday cage. The metal body safely conducts high-voltage electricity—like a lightning strike or downed power line—around the exterior and into the ground, leaving passengers inside safe, as long as they avoid touching exposed internal metal.”
Had we been in the aforementioned car of my late teens and early twenties, we’d have all been completely shafted because it had more exposed metal on the inside than any other material. (Cars were simpler then! We wound the windows up and down with a handle! Some of them didn’t even have seatbelts!) Had I instructed my nine year-old son not to touch any of the exposed metal in my car-of-the-past it would have taken him about fifteen seconds to lose willpower and poke an experimental finger towards the door frame.
But we weren’t in my car-of-the-past, we were in a state of comparative luxury, and even though I had no way to make fire or keep us warm or feed us if the world did start to end, I had a chamois leather and my in-built Porsche compass, which tells me which direction I’m facing and also how many feet I am - at any time! - above sea level. Excellent in a disaster situation.
The weather continues to be alarmingly weird, in the UK, with a heatwave so brutally hot (near enough forty degrees) that all of the schools around here have closed. People laugh at the British when they say that there’s a heatwave, and comment things like “try living in Fitchlington County, Arizona, we regularly have whole months where temperatures exceed 45!”
But the thing is, we have absolutely no strategy for when it gets hot, here in GB. Nobody has air con. We all rush out and buy fans as though it’s the first time we’ve ever seen sunlight. Why do we not already own a fan? It’s like we’re shocked that hot weather can even exist.
To be frank, we’re also really surprised when it rains a lot and when it floods, and also if it ever snows, or if there are high winds. We tend to fall apart at any weather event that isn’t just a bit drizzly, medium winds, temperature feels like eleven degrees.
But here I am, writing to you from the inferno. Dog to the left of me, fat cat to to the right, stuck in the middle with you.
Onwards, friends, with the June Favourites.
Ad-info: no paid or sponsored content. Post contains affiliate links. The Tatcha Milk is a press sample sent with no obligation to feature.
The Speedo Hydrasuit Swimsuit.
Nothing has made me feel more instantly like a superhero/member of the Olympic Diving Team than this swimsuit. It’s the high neck! The zip up the back! The fact I can do breast stroke without my baps flying up and out! It’s just so professional-looking - wasted on me really, considering I flounder around in water like a demented seal.
It was love at first try. I just felt so confident in it. The Hydrasuit was thirty-two quid here, I sized up to a UK14 (36) because the cut was, how do I say this, athletic-leaning. No regrets, went to buy it again in navy but they had sold out so I wait, silently, finger paused over the refresh button. Navy would be lovely…
Boody Ribbed Crop Top
Boody have a sale on. Oh, the softest and comfiest bras that are breathable and won’t make you pool with sweat as soon as temperatures rise. I bought a load of them last week, including a little racerback bralette thing to wear beneath vest tops, but the Ribbed Crop has won its way into my favourite underthings of all time list.
It’s so soft. Surprising level of support. Not “sports bra” level, by any means, but much more than I’d expect from something that feels like a cloud is cradling your boobs. I bought it in three colours and only kept one, which was stupid, because I need to have these on rotation.
They are currently in the sale at an outrageously good price here - I wear a size small and am UK10-12, 32DD.
Tatcha Dewy Milk Moisturiser
You’ve heard of Tatcha Dewy Cream, perhaps, because it has cult status in the world of beauty aficionados for the way in which it pumps the skin with so much hydration it’s fit to burst and then leaves a lovely dewy effect, borderline “glazed doughnut”.
I have to concede that it’s a very beautiful face cream. (Though I get an almost identical effect from the Beauty Pie Rich M3 cream here.) But, until now, only really suitable for people with skin on the drier side. I always felt it would be a bit much for those with even a hint of oiliness - it would feel heavy on the skin, despite its lovely gel-cream texture.
WELL. I don’t know what sort of alchemy Tatcha have conjured up with this Dewy Milk Moisturiser, or who in the development team sold their soul to the devil, but it is absolutely exquisite. The same (if not better!) dewy finish, the same ultra-hydration, but in a texture that feels as light as any moisturising product I’ve ever tried.
It’s almost like one of those essences that I can’t be arsed with. (No thanks to an extra step that I then have to Google which order it goes in and whether it still works if I have used my Glycolic peel pads.) It’s that light.
If you have oily skin - or even just prefer a barely-there texture with your moisturisers, especially in the summer - and you’ve always wanted to treat yourself to something Tatcha, and you have some Space NK rewards to use up (or are a first time customer so get that 15% discount) then I just don’t think you’d regret this. This and the Rice Wash would be my two picks from Tatcha that I think aren’t replicated by anyone else, in any shape or form.
(Though I will always continue to hunt for cheaper options of everything, if I possibly can. I do have high hopes for a Byoma product I’ve just ordered, but not sure it will be the same silky texture. Will report back.)
The Names
Huge trigger warning for Florence Knapp’s The Names, which tells three alternative stories of a family affected by the domestic abuse of the mother, Cora. The novel starts with the naming of a baby and, as Cora gets to the registry office, her naming decision. Go with the name the abusive husband (God, he’s drawn so well, so evilly, I wanted such bad things for him) had instructed her to go with, or choose her own name, thus retaining some sort of small power of her own.
It’s harrowing, I won’t bluster over that fact. There were many sad tears shed here, and I also experienced a deep residual anger that lasted for days and days, still hasn’t subsided, probably fuelled by some of the absolute horrors in the news involving violence against women and the way it is minimised and even ignored.
Now and then I read a novel and think THIS!, this should be on syllabuses for GCSE and A-level students. The Names is one of them. It so powerfully depicts how one person can prey on the vulnerabilities of another and reduce them to a whisper, a shadow of the person they were, and remove all of their ability to stand in the world independently. Whether its finances, or reputation. God, this has been going on for hundreds, thousands of years, and it’s still happening!
The Names is important and terrifying and brilliantly, brilliantly written. Massive recommends. I got mine here - at time of buying (and writing) it was less than half price.
Furry Birkenstocks
It feels weird going from The Names to something fluffy, I’m all riled up inside. But I missed being able to include these in last month’s favourites and nothing says “heatwave” like a pair of shearling sandals, so I’d hate to miss another weather-appropriate month.
I’ve wanted these for what feels like years. I just never felt I could justify the price. But then, IDIOT!, I’ve spent a lot more on things I’ve barely worn, and I wear my rubbery Birkenstocks every single day in the summer, so how could these furry ones ever be an error?
I know you’re thinking I’m mad. Furry stuff in the height of summer? But there’s something about the shearling that seems to keep my feet very comfortable in the heat! What is this trickery? Let’s Google:
“Genuine shearling is naturally temperature-regulating and breathable. It wicks moisture away and releases it into the air up to 7 times faster than synthetic fibers, meaning it can be comfortable on milder, breezy spring or summer days.”
That explains it, then. I also don’t get at all sweaty, unless I am sweating buckets and it’s all being trapped inside the furriness. Time will tell. If my dog starts licking them in a few weeks’ time I’ll know that the sweat has permeated the fibres forever.
I sized up one, as instructed by the sizing on the Birkenstock website, and bought these in the “Mocha” colourway. Kind of wish I’d gone lighter, because everyone in my family says I look like a caveman in them, but also, not really bothered. I think the dark brown is cool.
I bought mine here.
Right: video version of the whole entire monthly favourites (and a bonus beauty favourite that you MUST watch the video to see in action) is here: