Shirt, Blood is the New Black. DIY cropped denim, Zara. Shoes, Isabel Marant Beketts. Sunnies, Jeepers Peepers (similar)

Now that the larger part of the Olympics is over and the sun doing its job properly for once this summer, none of us (i.e England) seem to really know what to complain about. We’re shuffling around the water cooler and downing one too many plastic cups of company water, making small talk over the new carpet and the receptionist’s new clogs. Welcome to CompLane & Co, we were having a fantastic year until the weather cleared up and by some miracle the tourists learnt to stand on the right (edit: of tube escalators). So I am now complaining about wind knocking down a stinky flower vase, which in all honestly was actually quite a lovely gust of wind laced with sweet summer grass that broke the sweltering heat, and the flowers – despite having lost all its petals in transit and having pooped in the vase – was actually a rare luxury in our lifeless flat. I’d love to think these little cycle trips down to Columbia Road flower market is turning into a weekly practice that makes me more of a woman (on paper, at least)… but let me hang up my bra and tell you this, once this sun packs up and goes away to Ibiza (or wherever it retreats usually), I will resume the position Captain-CEO of the unstoppable force that is CompLane & Co, reigning in the confines of my own pizzacrust-lined dungeon. I WILL BE BACK.