Let them eat cake (and wear ice lollies)

During the summer it's especially easy to tell who in England is actually English. Even the uninitiated, unaware that constant apologising for goodness knows what and binge drinking are the marks of a Brit, can pick us out of a crowd. The thing is that little Blighty is blighted by clouds and beset by rain for at least 7/8 of the year, so when the sun does make a guest appearance, we completely lose our cool. We've spoken before about how we feel about bare chested men roaming the streets - hint, it's not good -  but the thing is, I am just as bad. As soon as it was socially acceptable I was swanning around East London dressed like I was off to the Riviera. And to be honest, the super swishy dress from The White Pepper coupled with the salted iced-coffee from Dalston's Violet Cakes kind of made me feel as though I wasn't in London anymore.