What I Wore Today

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I have lived in London for so long I have actually lost count. It’s either 6 or 7 years. Anyway, in that whole entire time, I have never been to Chelsea. I have skirted around the edges a couple of times, getting off the tube at Sloane Square & spying on the Sloane Rangers or going for dinner at the tail end of the Kings Road but I haven’t done Chelsea.

My friend Craig and I were chatting about this (and our guilty pleasure love of the channel 4 show Made in Chelsea) and decided that we would get a date in the diary to get serious glammed up and hit the Chelsea nightlife, and that night was Friday! Now, I have be completely brutally honest; I was looking forward to and dreading the night in equal measures. I had all these preconceptions (mostly based on MiC where I love to hate EVERYONE) and was expecting a night that filled with eye-watering prices, side-eyes from locals and generally feeling out of place and awkward and needing to dive into some serious amounts of shots to survive it. In reality, our night in Chelsea was actually one of the best nights out I have ever had, and so amazing that we instantly booked in a sequel just to revisit our favourite discoveries and hit some of the places we didn’t manage.

We set out on our Chelsea adventure armed with an actual itinerary (geeks!)  that was actually mostly based on discoveries from this helpful “where the stars eat and drink article ” I was wearing some of my highest of high heels so one rookie error was… there is a reason the Made in Chelsea bunch constantly get cabs everywhere. Chelsea is quite inaccessible on paupers public transport! The bus would have taken ages, so I got off the tube at Fulham Broadway, and then spent the next 30 minutes tottering and tutting at myself towards for not packing emergency flats to our first location which was Bluebird.

Bluebird is a beautiful building, which needs to be seen in daylight to really do it justice. White arches give the architecture a (fitting) bird-cage type effect and there is a bar, shop and then the cafe which is tucked in the corner. We settled down waiting to recoil in horror at the menu prices, only to discover it was SO reasonable. I had the best Club sandwich of my life (it toppled my previous number 1, The Warming Hut in San Francisco) and a huge portion of shoestring fries for £8! This gave us the perfect excuse to splash out on a bellini and a rossini to toast our night and the gorgeous surroundings. The Bluebird is an instagram heaven of decor; a plate sculptured wall, black and white tiled floor, just the right amount of kitsch and the service was also a dream. Not a side-eye in sight!

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After such a successful start we cynically pondered whether we had just stumbled into a Chelsea anomaly and whether the braying rah girls and bolshy rugger boys were waiting for us at our next location which we actually went off-piste (it was not on the itinerary!) and snuck into as it looked so pretty from the outside. Eight over eight is a beautiful art-deco look restaurant first and foremost, but the front is fondly referred to as the snug where those lucky enough to bag a seat can sit by the open fire slurping cocktails from their extensive menu. I was amazed that at 9pm on a Friday night we could just swan in and get a seat, but the bar remained just the right-side of busy and buzzy the whole two hours we stayed there. It was so cosy and the drinks were so good that we just couldn’t leave, and we also got stuck into some juicy tipsy gossiping at this stage. The theme to my drink ordering for the night was definitely martinis. At Eighty Six I sampled for the first time ever the rose petal martini, which was so delicious I could barely drink it as I didn’t want it to end. The prices were really reasonable again (especially if you are used to drinking in Soho like me) – martinis and classic cocktails were £8, house specials and fizzy cocktails were £10, and this included table service and they were obviously very professionally made. Far superior to vodka-rev standard. Once more the clientele were lovely. I even got chatting to a girl when she nearly left her scarf behind and although her accent was awfully-poush she was very friendly.

Lets also just take a moment to acknowledge the fact that I was dressed more like something out of TOWIE than a classy MiC bird. I just bought this amazing pink tutu dress in the ASOS sale and have been desperate to wear it with my clashing nude heels. I then thought since I was already pretty Barbie ish, I’d add my Pat Butcher leopard print coat and entirely give up on trying to fit in with the designer labels and just embrace my natural TOWIE.  I am a sucker for anything backless, and adore the silver shimmery straps on this dress, it makes it even more like a ridiculous tutu that you would wear doing primary-school ballet classes.

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Craig on the other hand opted for the Chelsea class, with a white shirt and black braces and tie. He looked pretty sharp and I was proud to be on his arm for the night! Our final destination for the night was Eighty-Six where after a few false starts and Google map disasters, we headed down to Fulham Road. The 10 minute walk took us past what I would consider the real Chelsea, beautiful townhouses and quaint streets dotted with antique lamp-posts. We took a few photographs outside our ideal homes and it was the only time we felt like lowly out-sider tourists! As we approached Eighty-Six there was a heavy door staff and I got the sudden fear that we’d be turned away for not being classy enough (!) but we were let through the velvet rope instantly and hit the bar for yet more cocktails. Eighty Six has a simple decor, bare lightbulbs and tons of plush leather sofas, and yet more toasty log fires. There were a labyrinth of stairs leading to other parts of the building but we were told that was to the restaurant (which I imagine is not cheap).  Standing at the bar I suddenly heard a whimper from Craig and followed his eyeline to the bar staff as we noticed he was wearing EXACTLY the same outfit as their bar uniform! I guess white tie + black braces really is classic. So he quickly whipped his braces down and pocketed them, and all was right with the world again. There always was going to be more chance that we’d see someone in his outfit than mine. At Eighty-Six we couldn’t have been made to feel more welcome. The chatty (fashionable) bar staff, the door staff and the other (mostly handsome men) that seemed to be dotted around. There was also a brilliant DJ who mostly played mwam-mwam housey stuff but did drop in Children by Robert Miles for a last hurrah, which I have alot of respect for!

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& With that, we tottered back up to North London, giggling frozen air into the cold night and exclaiming at our surprising Chelsea experience. As you can tell, I would highly recommend anyone to take a night out in Chelsea. I usually end up drinking in Soho and whilst it has a place in my heart, the crammed bars and drink queues and noise and chaos can get a bit much. I felt Chelsea was the perfect tonic, as it was still buzzy, busy and alive but there was always space to take a seat and settle down for a proper chat. Also the joy of Kings Road is that there is an endless choice of places to pop in for a drink that you don’t have to travel far from bar to bar and can be spontaneous about where to go. (Our map and printed itinerary was definitely not necessary!) I feel a bit mortified at the stereotypes I had bought in to, and have to remember that Made in Chelsea is a television show and not actual real life… even if it pretends to be. I’m very glad this post can be so positive and un-scathing! Although there wasn’t a Cheska or Binky or Spencer in sight… so I wonder where they really do go on a Friday night?

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(DRUNK!)

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I definitely don’t count myself as any sort of fashionista and since the second most common comment when I interact with complete strangers (after you look like a vegetarian) is are you a student? I’m pretty certain the rest of the world agrees that my fashion ‘thing’ is generally being a bit higgeldy piggeldy and unpredictable. And permanently teenage. That bit is better.

But there is one thing that I adore, and will never ever stop adoring. And that is a BIG COLLAR.

Is there anything better?!

 

 

 

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Today is Sunday, and today is SUMMER!

I left the house in just a playsuit and cardigan, and didn’t feel a prickle of cold once. Even once the sun had set and I was pottering home. I walked 6 miles today, on the hunt for blossom and green grass and  beers outside and London Fields. Everyone I came across had wide smiles and the sky was blue.

Do you follow any of your favourite clothes shops on Twitter? I follow quite a few, as I like to keep a beady eye out for discounts and sales and the like. A few months ago I started following Tesco Clothing on Twitter, and I think I can definitely vouch for keeping their Tweet-er employed, as last week they posted a link to this gorgeous floral print playsuit that was reduced to £12. Within two seconds of seeing the tweet, I was on the website, selecting my size and purchasing before I could literally take another breath! It was ridiculous! Luckily my haste paid off, as I absolutely adore everything about this playsuit. The frills, the print and the length. I can’t wait to the degrees to nudge up a bit and wear it bare legged all summer long.

Something about the summer makes me want to ditch all my stuffy, stiff handbags and just stick all my worldly belongings into a tote bag. I don’t know why! I guess they are a handy size to shove a picnic blanket into, books, sunglasses, bottles of toffee apple cider etc into! This is my favourite one, I bought it at an Erol Alkan show and it always makes me smile.

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This dress is one of my favourite ever charity shop purchases. It was £3, and I’ve had it for 3 years, and probably worn it 100 times. It’s a great summer frock, although the slit up the back makes it a bit bum-skimmy so only for days when I will be mostly sitting down!

But… I haven’t worn this dress for over a year. And it’s all because, the last time I wore it, I BROKE MY FOOT! Isn’t that ridiculous, so ever since then, everytime I look at it hanging sadly in my wardrobe, it reminds me of cracking bones and hours in Whitechapel A&E (aka scariest place on the planet) and general trauma. Do you think you can be superstitious about clothes? I know people have lucky pants, pulling dresses etc… but what about when your connotations with an item of clothing are bad?

I think in the past if I’ve had clothes that were bought for me by ex boyfriends, I have probably jumble-saled them, but that is a little bit different. With bad-memory items, it’s almost like I’m scared that by wearing it again I’m bound to have bad luck. But, I’m being brave, and lets hope the day passes with all my limbs intact and I can break the curse…

I love the candy striping, the big tacky gold buttons, the pockets (of course) and the silhouette of pinched in waist and poofy skirt section.

To face the blustery big smoke I’m surgically attached to my H&M fur coat. I get pangs of pain when I realise Spring is coming and I won’t be able to snuggle into it for much longer.

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