Tuesday, 7 January 2014


"Ooo Hello [sleezy voice]" - JR

I warned you, I'm posh.

Although unfortunately Harrods is not a regular occurrence, this times funding came very generously from Ma, my recent birthday prezzie was a trip to Harrods for tea (two people), and of course my partner in crime on that day was Miss Reeve. 
I must have spent about 3 weeks (3 days) organising and planning my outfit, desperate to fit into the clans of poshos that sipped tea and frittered away hundreds of pounds on a pair of socks. I chose a sheer cream shirt (black lacey bra underneath obvs), denim and leather a-line skirt, black pixie boots and my beloved fur collared coat. This, in my head, was a power ensemble, however I'm pretty sure that for at least half the day my arse was uncovered by the skirt (luckily covered by my coat! phew!) and the blisters my newest shoe purchase had made, 2 days previously, stung like bitches in my boots. Fashion is pain!
Init nice?!
Entering the store in drizzly, morning daylight and exiting the store a good 6 and a half hours later to find the day had passed without us noticing totally baffled me. We sat and ate scones, pastries and teeny tiny finger sandwiches for 2 hours, but the other four had been spent wandering the floors and listening to Josie greet every nice object with a Kenneth Williams-styley 'Helloooo' and staring longingly at fancy make-up/clothes/shoes and books.
The afternoon tea provided unlimited tea. We definitely made the most of it; two silver, four people pots and almost a whole sugar bowl were consumed by us, that on top of ridiculously indulgent petit fours had us in sugar shakes and experiencing the tea sweats. Although we were super starving by the time we found the Georgian, we were even 20mins early?!
She's going to hate me for this!
Turns out that Harrod's makes me so posh its almost uncomfortable, I have never sat as straight as I did in that tea room and I definitely don't normally laugh with my hand over my mouth! Its quite frankly a posh girl problem, we are determined to prove our upper-class credentials.
Notice the pinky?!
However I was out Downton-ed by a lady who was determined to hire someone to follow her carrying her bags?! 

Returning home totally skint with Chanel eyeshadow, 2 classic books, Bumble & Bumble hair nonsense and a bottle of water, I felt accomplished, but not as accomplished as Miss Reeve who carried her brand new, rose gold, The Cambridge Satchel Company bag, like a baby or Gollum's precious.

Hoping I've made you suitably jelly!
B xoxo

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