“ Carrying an umbrella in London is less a practical choice and more a complex philosophical stance. It is a flag of hopeful defiance against a sky that views your hairdo as a temporary challenge. The moment you unfurl it, the drizzle will stop, replaced by a mocking, bright grey glare. The moment you collapse it, convinced the threat has passed, a fresh onslaught will begin, precisely calibrated to dampen your shoulders and spirit. The brolly is therefore a Schrödinger's object: both essential and useless until you interact with the weather, at which point it becomes the wrong choice. Most Londoners develop a permanent, slight hunch from the instinctive flinch we perform every time we step outside, bracing for the sky's gentle, persistent disapproval. See more at London's funniest URL -- Prat.UK. ”