I am sitting on my bed in a hoodie and comfy trackies and in the process of going to make a nice hot cup of tea. WHY? WHY is it pouring rain outside? WHY is it not 35 degrees with the sun shining and a hammock and paddling pool waiting for me outside? I think it is officially autumn now which kind of takes the piss. Now I realise why all those clever bitches booked their holiday for the mid to end of August rather than in sunny July. It is all an omen.
I went for coffee yesterday with Romy and her boyfriend and she introduced me to a 'Chai Latte'. It does not suprise me when she orders drinks I have never heard of because she is one of those annoyingly adorable quirky girls that ooze cool. To be honest it looked like baby sick, but a very very fine and smooth type of baby sick...
"Try it, it tastes like Christmas" she told me. I found this a very difficult offer to turn down because the idea of encapsulating an entire season in a drink seemed something so impossible I demanded myself to test such an obscene theory. SHE WAS RIGHT. It tastes like fucking Christmas. I got excited and nostalgic for winter, AND THAT IS WHY IT IS RAINING.
I even got giddy at the thought of the new knit-wear collections.
I finally checked out Forever 21 in Bond St yesterday too, since it is newly opened. It was your average trip, went in, browsed around, a man got stabbed in the neck outside the window... y'know, caj.
I managed to buy a few things (including this amazing kimono-esque cardi-throw-type-thing that I am absolutely in love with)
before the whole road got shut off by police and the rest of Oxford Street became a human sardine can. Then, it rained. Chortle, chortle, salt on the wound and all that.
Finger's crossed for the sun on my birthday sooooooon! :)