Let's not do these things in summer 2025
Getting the negativity out now so I can be cool for the next four months.
We’ve made it. The ten-day forecast is reliably above 40, which means the newly God-favored people of Chicago are spending every possible second outside again. It’s a beautiful thing to see— people coming out of hibernation, hanging out on patios, on corners, at the beach, walking everywhere again.
It’s thrilling for the first few days. The shedding of the seasonal affective disorder you didn’t know you had feels like a drug. And then, out of nowhere, the annoyance hits.
It’s easy to romanticize the public when you’re stuck inside, longing to see people out and about and not just sardined into a bar on a cold Friday night. However, now that the public is truly out and about, and the initial excitement is over, they’re human and they’re… annoying.
I know it’s the time of the year for me to be drinking a beer on a patio and skipping down the street in a tiny little skirt and spontaneously jumping in the lake after work. I will be. But it seems I can’t do that without shedding the crotchety, lightly antisocial skin that I’ve developed during the winter months.
So, please, indulge me, and allow me to get a few of these complaints (that I’m aware read like they’re coming from an 87-year-old shut-in) off my chest— then I’ll be ready for the idyllic summer a twentysomething brunette should be having.
Without further ado, here are my OUTs for Summer 2025.
Walking down the sidewalk on your phone. You think you’re so important?
Now that the sidewalks are more crowded, this is a fucking epidemic. I’m not talking about walking on a phone call; I’m talking about walking down the sidewalk at two miles per hour while staring down at their phone. It’s like everyone hibernated over the winter and truly, genuinely forgot how to walk.
You won’t realize this because you’re busy adjusting your Bluetooth settings or fighting with your boyfriend over text, but if you’re on your phone, you are walking so slow! And you’re kind of swaying a bit so I can’t even overtake you. And then when I do overtake you, you look at me like I’m the freak as if you’re not the one walking with a disgusting zombielike gait.
To be fair, I find myself getting day-ruiningly annoyed by people walking on their phones— and then I catch myself doing the same thing. I’m adding something to my notes app or checking when the train comes. What I’m doing is never that important, but being on my phone is a reflex. I recognize that my criticism also comes from a place of deep shame over my phone addiction— a problem that affects my whole generation, and obviously goes a lot deeper than just being a nuisance on the sidewalk.
But just because I’m sympathetic doesn’t mean I can’t still complain about it. You know what works 100% of the time? Keeping your phone in the bottom of your bag. Stepping to the side of the sidewalk if you catch yourself on your phone, or if you have to switch your song or check bus times so urgently. Or, alternatively, just working on your speed.
MOVE!!!!
The trendy sunglasses (sunnies? I wanted to say “sunnies” here but it feels too marketing copy vibes) industrial complex
Too much has been written about how every couple years, Americans will all flock to buy some brand new trendy water bottle for some reason. The Swell to Hydroflask to Stanley to Owala pipeline. Critics (rightfully) say it’s insidious, it’s wasteful, and these things that are supposed to be somewhat of a utility are getting commercialized to a ridiculous extent.
I get that sunglasses are actual fashion and therefore allowed a little more leeway for being trendy, but Jesus Christ. Wayfarers. Aviators. Clout goggles. Those tiny little Bella Hadid ones. Now it’s small-ish rounded ones.
Glasses-wearers will tell you that it’s almost impossible to find the pair of glasses that uniquely fits your face shape. They love to talk about how they had a crisis the first time they had to find new frames. So why are we all expected to buy into trendy sunglasses? Every year or so I dutifully buy a new pair of sunglasses that fit the trend. Without fail, they always look bad on me, and then I’m stuck with another dud pair of glasses taking up space.
Last summer I bought a huge pair of sunglasses that take up half my face. They are not trendy, and honestly look a bit ridiculous, but my hope is that people think I’m making some kind of fashion Choice when I wear them. I like them because they actually keep the sun out of my eyes, and I think if styled right they make me look like a glamorous older woman with a little dog.
I’m out on trendy sunglasses for the near future, and I would love if people joined me in this fight.
Wearing your backpack on the train
Everyone wants to go into the office in the summer. Everyone wants to sit on a closed-off street after work (please pour one out for the former Clark street closure in River North) and have a couple cheap happy hour specials and watch the people go by. That’s fine. That’s lovely. Me too, in fact.
But the trains are more crowded, and if it’s packed, you’ve just gotta be a little bit mindful of how much space you take up with that little Lego-block backpack. The polite thing to do is to take it off so more people can fit on the train, and so you’re not hitting other people in the face with it. Here’s a tutorial:
Take your backpack off.
Hold it in your hand by the strap or handle.
Revel in the fact that you did the right thing, and the zipper of your backpack is not going directly into some poor stranger’s eye.
That’s it, really!
If it’s heavy, think about the fact that I can do it, and I am a wimpy girl who’s afraid of confrontation and currently taking her complaints to Substack. Or, if you’re a chauvinist, think about the fact that a girl can carry her own backpack, and how emasculating that is for a big strong man like you. Or, if you’re a gentleman, think about the fact that this poor working woman on the train is carrying her own backpack so you should carry yours in solidarity. Or, if you’re an attractive nice single man, you should ask for my number. Really whatever gets you to hold your backpack is fine with me.
Of course, this does introduce the uniquely summer problem of the back sweat that accumulates when you’re carrying a work backpack. Whatever! Not my problem. I’m just the ideas guy.
Gel manicures
The last gel manicure I got ended in blood. The tech removing it hacked at my fingers with a nail file for so long that my cuticles were genuinely swollen with bleeding, broken skin. Then, she applied a cute little layer of light pink nail polish on top, making them look like dressed-up charred hot dogs on a grill until the swelling went down days later.
I know this isn’t supposed to happen. I know most reputable salons will not do this. However, I’m scarred. Can you blame me? Hot dogs! As a result, I’ve started painting them at home with a nice gel topcoat, and it’s hard to tell the difference. They’ve gotten healthy and I can keep them long.
There’s something chic about chipped nail polish in the summer, a childlike sign of “I’ve had fun” like a bruised knee or scraped shin. I want chipped nails. I want people to see them and assume I’ve been too busy to get them touched up. It says just as much as what color you do your nails, or what kind of rings you wear.
At this point, you’re probably curious: am I just trying to make this trendy so I don’t feel left out for being the only one without a gel manicure? Well, of course. This is my Substack. Of course I’m using it for selfish ends.
My joints hurt
In writing a bunch of complaints I have somehow transfigured into a senior citizen. Help!
Yes! Negativity is in!