The beauty world were the first, I believe, to enter the world of subscription boxes. The excitement of receiving an surprise package through the letterbox each month containing a teeny tiny lipstick or mini face cream was almost too much to bear. However there’s now a subscription box for EVERYTHING. Chocolate, books, tea, flowers… In fact, if there isn’t a subscription box associated with a brand it almost makes you a bit suspicious….
I often find myself running around Soho for various meetings and whatnot, and I’m lucky that I have a few dear pals who work in the area, who can skip out of their offices and come and meet me on their lunch breaks…
I am therefore always on the hunt for new spots for lunch in Soho, and love hearing about new cafes that have popped up (and always sad to hear when one has popped down).
Whenever you find yourself standing in the middle of Trafalgar Square, HUNGRY, don’t panic. At first glance you can’t see any places to head to for lunch, apart from a few fast food chains… but what you may not know, is hidden in the magnificent National Gallery (that massive building on the square), is The National Café, which serves up scrumptious British and modern European dishes, from brekky through to dinner…
I first discovered Emerald Street a few years ago, and pretty much fell in love instantly.
It was a proper girl crush. With a website. Which was weird. But not weird at all. Because Emerald Street is like having a bestie by your side. A chum in crime and the best kind of girlfriend, who’ll tell it to you like it is. Like it actually is. “No, that dress doesn’t actually do anything for you, you should stop wearing it” kind of friend.
There was a moment today, where I felt warm. Outside. There was a proper shift in the weather and I felt the sun on my face for more than just a couple of accidental minutes.
There was still a considerable breeze and it definitely wasn’t warm in the shade, but the fact remains that the sun said a proper hello and it looks as though it’s not going away any time soon. Hip pip.
Today I found myself back on Portobello Road, where I haven’t been for a few weeks… I’d missed it. I do think that the sun always seems to shine down on the Bello, no matter what the weather. It could be snowing in Walthamstow and I’m pretty confident that it would be blue skies and carnivals in W11.
A few days ago I started to plan a little trip. The trip was going to be full of fun, exploring, food & fashion. I was going to wander streets I’d never wandered, discover little cobbled streets with cafes, and generally have a very lovely time.
But then I felt a cloud appear above me as I started to think of The Big Faff. The epic journey, either on the tube or by taxi, to get to my terminal, the long queues to pick up my tickets, more long queues while I wait to board, the limits on my baggage, the emptying my water bottle only to buy another just before I board…
Some of my dearest people come from Norway, with one special girl in particular, who knows me even better than perhaps I know myself. She’s one of those. Any time I hear Norwegian, or Swedish being spoken on the tube or in a cafe, I think of her and wish I could just pop round for a cup of tea.
But it’s a bit tricky, what with the whole ‘other country’ thing and lack of private jet.
I don’t know if wanting to eat everything in sight is a normal symptom of jet lag, but it was mine. And I embraced it with gusto, by heading to Rail House Café in Victoria, which you may have seen appear on instagram rather a lot in recent weeks… it’s because it’s very photogenic. And extremely delicious.
Spring is most definitely here and Summer it on its way…
I’ve ditched the coat and am seeking out lighter threads, pretty fabrics and feminine cuts. My brother said I looked like Mary Poppins in this dress. My friend said “Dorothy”. And quite frankly, I’ll take them both.
I love the London Coffee Festival. It’s vibrant and exciting and fun and so LONDON. I don’t know if that makes sense to you, but I just can’t imagine the festival feeling the same in any other part of the world. There’s something about the understated vibe, the eclectic bunch of folk, the wackiness, the passion and the whole relaxed swagger of it that makes me feel incredibly proud to be a Londoner.
Books, brunches and Sundays are three of my favourite things. In fact, they might even be my top three things. Add in beautiful Belgravia, supporting an independent book shop and delicious food and I’m literally in heaven.
Book & Brunch Sundays at Lowndes Bar & Kitchen are adding a little literary bliss in Belgravia, by teaming up their gorgeous brunch with local indie book shop Belgravia Books, who include a brand new paperback specially selected by themselves, as part of the brunch, for you to keep.
Sometimes, only a staycation will do. A night away from normality. From routine. A short teeny tiny holiday in a massive bed with a massive bath where people bring you breakfast in bed and leave you a mini bar full of biscuits and naughtines. And even though you are only about 30 mins away from your own front door, it still means everything. It’s a total wind down – forget about the world – give yourself a hug – treat.