I don’t know when exactly, or where, but like everyone else I’m getting my annual urge to fling myself on to some sand. So what do I need to take to the beach? Well, first of all some trunks. Yes, tailored swimshorts look smart but, goddamn, an elasticated waist feels good after a lunchtime paella (“No, I do know it’s for two people, but I will eat both raciones”). There’s a simple method to pick the design of your trunks and it goes like this: is your T-shirt or shirt patterned? If the answer’s yes, then your trunks must be plain. If the answer’s no, go crazy. No pattern is too bold, no colour too garish. Express yourself.
Next up is your top. On holiday is the only time you can justify wearing a vest, but you still need to proceed with caution – you don’t want to look like you’re auditioning for the next series of Love Island. I’ll generally go for a short-sleeved shirt, ideally quite loose-fitting. A plain white linen one will do just fine, or get stuck into the floral trend (remember – only with plain shorts).
You’ll also want to take some knitwear. Knitwear on the beach, what is this madness? Here’s the thing – you’ll want to make a smooth transition from beach to bar, and a jumper can really help with that. Obviously you don’t want a heavy cable – go for a fine cotton knit from somewhere like John Smedley. Promenading down the, err, promenade at sundown, you might be tempted to tie your jumper loosely around your neck. Resist that temptation. Keep your jumper in your bag. You have a bag, right? I like tote bags and refute the idea that they are feminine. A decent-sized tote will swallow up all of your beach bits – lotion, book, headphones, binoculars, two-litre bottle of Orangina etc. Failing a tote take a holdall and carry everyone else’s stuff, too.
Bucket hats are currently very “in” but bear in mind that if you wear a bucket hat you will be a man wearing a bucket hat. Think very carefully about that. I’d favour renting a lounger with a parasol, or a nice Panama hat, or raging sunburn to the scalp, over the bucket.
The last thing on my beach packing list is a game of some description. If I were to come into money (fairly sizeable if), I would buy the most luxe set of bat ’n’ ball ever made, from Frescobol Carioca. The bats are beautiful: the sort of thing you’d happily hang on the wall and call art. Without a sudden windfall, I’ll stick to forgetting to pack one of my cheap sets and buying yet another set from yet another bloody kiosk.
