I've moved on...
...to a different domain. Why, what were you thinking? The truth is, I just woke up one day and decided it's time for a change—a metamorphosis, if you will; or, in layman's terms, if Britney can shave her head, then maybe so can I? Nevertheless, it's been a rather handsome 10 years of talking to you, and thank you for putting up with all my moodswings and terrible dad jokes. Fear not! The hormonal imbalance and jokes are more terrible on CUBICLE, see you there.

Columbia Road Flower Market

Foldable Liberty-print tote by Catherine Memre

Wearing: Shirt, Libery London. Jeans, Levi’s. Shoes, Friis & Company (similar). Sunglasses, Jeepers Peepers. Straw bag, Chloé; Thank you Kit for the shots!

I don’t know what’s worse, not having a TV or relying on Twitter/Google for current issues, because for a few weeks now I’ve been holed up in my flat eating peanuts out of party size bags (hubby is a compulsive hoarder) and collecting rainwater because apparently there’s a zombie mob out there choking the streets and running down innocent Londoners just trying to get on with life. At least that’s what I made out of all the ‘keep out of London’ tweets by the metropolitan police. Apparently the Olympics is on too. Yesterday I managed to sneak away to my happy place that is Columbia road flower market, one of the many bulletpoints on the Sunday to-do list that gets neglected, the other neglected task being ‘water the plants’ – not sure if this is ironic or logical. Peonies were still out so I happily bagged six bunches while Kit scored an armful of hydrangeas for £5, then we had donuts and coffee while observing an unfriendly pomeranian go nuts over crumbs. What a happy Sunday, and not a zombie in sight, Twitter you liar.

Château de Fontainebleu

Neoprene Jacket, H&M trend. Jeans, Levi’s. Scarf, Alice & Olivia. Sunnies, Jeepers PeepersOxford Shirt, hubby’s Ralph Lauren. Chelsea Boots, Topshop

So… remember that giggle-and-titter trip to Disneyland from a few moons past with Jen, Fred & hubby? Believe it or not, there was quite a journey before we reached happily ever after in the land of dreams – no I’m not referring to the Eurostar ride. I’m talking about the shuffle into van and drive down towards the gleaming castle and towards a distant, yet still squeaky-clear, melody of ‘it’s a small world afterall’ and everyone hoots – even the boys – then driver takes sharp left and continues down 45 minutes through French countryside and passengers sulk silently type of journey. Later we found out the Vienna International Hotels team had so gracefully planned an extensive itinerary, which involved of touching four corners of the Disney experience, where three don’t sell princess dresses. Disneyland was first corner, naturally; second was Paris – an hour van-ride from the Dream Castle Hotel, where we got tipsy and watched boobies jiggle on stage. La Vallée Village was third, the outlet shopping village (think Bicester Village) two minutes from the hotel where I was denied purchasing a certain pair of Céline sandals marked £190 by hubby who pulled the leash (mostly expressing disgruntle over unfulfilled one-in-one-out policy). Fourth and last was Château de Fontainebleu, home of many, MANY Kings, Queens, Emperors and Empresses’ over the past eight centuries. Let me first apologize for the amount of photos you’ve had to scroll through and here’s a Gatorade for your fingers. (Olympic spirit!) By the third chamber I gave up with the tourguide and lagged behind, it felt a crime to simply brush by the breathtaking details of each room – the brilliant colours, intricate patterns and rich textures… Heck, I know this sounds oddly grown-up and therefore incredibly unlike moi but I’d actually like to visit Disneyland again and dedicate one whole day checking out the 9/10th of the palace we missed. Dibs on the palace if I ever become King of France.