Via Pinterest

Sibora Dibra

Arts and Culture Editor

Coffee drunk black, perfectly ripe tomatoes piled onto a slice of whole-wheat sourdough, and a tall glass of sunset-colored Aperol spritz under a blazing afternoon sun. Linen dresses and sun-kissed skin, long walks down cobblestone streets, and dinners that stretch well past dusk. Behind you on the terrace, glasses clink and spill onto the floor while conversations dissolve into the sea-salt air. 

Somewhere along the way, a souvenir shop’s inviting glow catches your eye. Across the window, the words dolce far niente curl in delicate cursive. Nothing, in this utopic vision of the warmest season of the year, is urgent or rushed. This is il dolce far niente–’the art of doing absolutely nothing’–and it’s precisely the kind of summer social media has been selling us. 

‘Euro Summer,’ known online as ‘euro-maxxing’ or ‘tomato girl summer’, is less a travel trend than it is a lifestyle fantasy. Its appeal lies in the digitized fantasy of a life steeped in leisure, pleasure, and camaraderie. 

Long before TikTok christened the concept, European culture had been wedging itself into the mainstream through cinema, fashion, and celebrity culture, displaying its most seductive components for foreign consumption. From Audrey Hepburn wandering through Rome in Roman Holiday (1953), to the sun-drenched Greek islands of Mamma Mia (2008) and the bittersweet romance of Call Me by Your Name (2017), popular media has long been presenting Europe as a place of beauty, passion, and escapism. What began as a superficial ideal was gradually consumed by the masses, leading these images to become increasingly detached from their true integral significance. What’s left is a trend that repackages food, clothing, music, and language as an aesthetic rather than as important elements of culture. 

Just as there is no singular European culture, there is no singular European summer–to package a whole continent under one aesthetic is to flatten centuries of regional differences, linguistic traditions and societal identities into an individual, easily digestible stereotype. The “en vogue” notion of Europe doesn’t extend past a narrow selection of just a few Mediterranean countries like Italy, Spain, and Greece. In reality, it is composed of roughly fifty countries with their own distinct cultures. There are political tensions, immigration issues, environmental crises, and–most recently–consequences of extreme heatwaves; things which simply do not have their place in this trend built around an unattainable fantasy.

“Ultimately, the term ‘Euro Summer’ in itself becomes an inaccurate vehicle for escapism–the picture of what a desirable life looks like.”

It becomes an alternative to a reality most are desperately trying to flee: the hustle, the grind, the constant pressure to work, improve, and achieve in North American society. Rooted in individual freedom and upward mobility, the American Dream is entirely founded on the belief that a more prosperous life can be attained through nine-to-fives, burnouts, and corporate ladders; be willing to work hard, and you’ll build something great for yourself!  In this way, Euro Summer introduces a narrative in which the two continents become opposites—while North America grows increasingly expensive and draining, Europe becomes the perfect illusory solution for an exhausted people to get away. 

Still, the trend’s tempting effortlessness becomes something to be purchased. Woven hats, expensive hotels, extravagant drinks… In trying to escape the consumerism associated with North American life, Euro Summer instead imitates it, making profit off of something as intangible as desire for freedom.

That’s the fundamental irony at the core of Euro Summer: it promises a break from pressure, allowing us, for a short instant, to daydream of another life. In truth, Europe isn’t a carefree one-dimensional antidote, and North America cannot be reduced to a continent of hustle and excess. Each is infinitely more profound than the fantasies we’ve designed about them.

Maybe what we’re truly longing for isn’t a vacation or an escape, but simply the possibility of embracing il dolce far niente, of doing absolutely nothing.