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When I left work last night – earlier than usual for me, maybe around 5:45pm – I looked down the street and I swear to god the sun was still setting. There was just a little bit of light in the sky, or maybe it is better described as non-total darkness.
It was gone in the time it took me to walk to the tube, about 3.5 minutes, but it still got me excited – because when the sun starts setting later it can only mean one thing .
SSSSSSSSPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGG is coming! YAY!
…or it may have been the bright city lights making it look like the sun was still setting…
Ahhh…. There’s nothing like a little Spring Fashion to kick those Jan Blues. Spent a nice afternoon out on a ‘comp shop’ today – basically going shopping on work time. Perrrrfect.
We went to London’s lone Westfield; this place seems to have some kind of magical hold over all the women of London… they love it. And it is a nice mall, just like Westfield Bondi Junction (or WBJ as they like to be called) at home. The UK is a little short on fancy malls – they prefer the high street. Jury’s out here… Aussie’s back home are calling for a high street revival (ala Oxford St, Paddington in Sydney which is dying a slow death) but here people are just seriously eating up Westfield’s. WEIRD! What do you prefer?
Anyway. Fashion, Yes. So maybe a little too early to judge the high street retailers, January is a notoriously bad month in retail land, sitting in murky water between the dregs of sale and the ‘soft launch’ of new season, so I’ll give them another chance and go back next week (if I have to, sigh). Or maybe the range at the Westfield stores just didn’t cut it to the full flagship ranges they stock in the Oxford St stores. Or maybe it’s because I’m shopping spring fashion and it’s January (!?!?). Can anyone say ‘transeasonal’?** Either way, coming away with another drape cardi is a bad sign… it’s my default purchase when I can’t find anything. Its OK though, got it 50% off with my staff discount 
BUT no need to worry because the real fashion was what the patrons were wearing. I am constantly in awe of the number of fashionable women in London. People watching is simply a joy. Who needs magazines for inspiration when it’s shopping along side you? It may be superficial to some, but London fashion is one of those ‘step up’ moments I talk about in my London Challenge blog. You just can’t help but want to do it better, it’s exciting! But browser beware, my lesson learnt is that if you see something you like, buy it now. In London, it won‘t be there when you go back.
So. Quickly, season picks for me:
- Dusty pink… the soft, frilly, chiffony, feminine kind.
- Prints on prints (yes, determined to make this work, but cant imagine wearing anything other than winter black right now)
- Sailor Stripes and Sexy spots – too easy
- Harem pants (or similar) – not sure if I dare…? But I love
- Investment in accessories – there are so many unique, quirky and fun things out there I am determined to get some.
- Flat shoes – I can’t believe I’m saying that, because I love heels. But I do get a bit gigantor in them. Its time to be rational and enjoy the shorter side of life.
- Fringing – love this always, already acquired new Topshop fringed top, yet to be worn…
HAPPY SHOPPING!
** I just tried googling the term ‘transeasonal’ to link to, but it seems that the term is actually Australian, which I guess is why London doesn’t do it. Basically all fashion launched at the beginning of a season needs to be transeasonal so that it can be worn immediately (cos who the hell is going to wear strappy sandals in London in January I ask you).
So, I received a bit of feedback on my most recent Naked Passport Post – thank you to Sarah for her very articulate indignation at my calling the non-EU queue at the airport the ‘loser’ queue when I am in fact Australian. I was also sent a great article in the NY times about becoming a UK citizen from the Schnitzel.
For any of those unfamiliar with the process of gaining a UK Passport, you first need to become a UK citizen, which means you have to fill out forms, take a medical test, and various other fairly mundane activities; but the last part of the process is your Swearing in Ceremony; a formal affair where you pledge your allegiance to your new country.
In honesty, my UK Passport acquisition is most in line with what the author in this article describes as “the lone American businessman pledging his allegiance to the shortest airport queue”… or in my case, a ticket to live in London. What should have been an exciting and important event just left me feeling a bit cheap and nasty because basically I faked it. Swearing allegiance to Britain? Surely they know my allegiance is ALWAYS going to be to Australia.
What’s worse is that the UK probably wouldn’t even be my next allegiance either, that honour would probably go to Canada, or even New Zealand (controversial yes, but I love those guys and we do need to stick together) neither country of which I have citizenship. The best I can promise is that the UK would definitely be in my top 5 – I do have a heritage with the country through my family and I really REALLY appreciate being able to live here.
Is that good enough a pledge – “In the Top 5”? Should they let me keep my passport? If I were them, then the answer would likely be a big fat REVOKE.
But in reality, the UK will let you have as many other citizenships as you want, so they must know that many people they swear in don’t always have England in their hearts forever. And maybe they are just being realistic. We live in an international community and people are criss crossing the world all the time. You have to respect that people have many homes. Though I think I agree with the author of the NY Times article, that in the end, you can only be from one place. And mine is most definitely Australia.
…The irony of course is that you never have to pledge allegiance to the country you’re born into.
PS. Although you actually can attend an “Affirmation Ceremony” to pledge your commitment if you want, details found here.
If I had to pick just one reason for our move to London I would easily say that it was because London is the perfect base camp for lots of European travel. I would hazard a guess that most antipodeans would say the same thing.
And it was easy for me to move here because I am one of the lucky ones – my mum was born here. Yes, that’s right; I am the lucky owner of a UK passport. It’s red, more solid and hard than my Aussie one, and has a little microchip thing in it; needless to say it is one of my pride possessions.
And it’s sad, but you can tell the expats who don’t have one… they get a far-off misty eyed look on their face when they find out you have one; it’s called longing, my friend. They want it bad.
Combining a UK Passport with European travel proves there are even more benefits for the lucky chosen ones – you queue in the EU line rather than the ‘Other [LOSER] Countries’ line when going through international security. In all honesty though, this doesn’t always work out to be faster because the ‘Other [LOSER] Countries’ line is often so short – but believe me, when its long, It. Takes. Forever.
My husband-to-be and I were discussing our travel achievements on the way home from Barcelona the other day and he pulled out his Canadian passport to do a quick check of the places we’ve been. So all good – I daresay we’ve been getting around – Belgium, Amsterdam, Cardiff (does this count?) Switzerland and most recently to Barcelona all since we arrived in London. Tres cool, lots of stamps.
So I pulled out my passport to admire my stamps (and secretly to one-up him as I had many more stamps from my recent round the world trip… so sue me, I’m a terrible person). Well, Karma’s a b!tch – I stared in astonishment at my completely naked passport – not a single stamp! Not only was I an idiot because of course all my pre-London trips have been on my Aussie passport and not my UK one, but you don’t get stamped when you travel within the EU on a UK passport – all this travel and nothing to show! I don’t even have a stamp from my arrival into the country.
I swear I heard him giggle.
Snow covered Regent's Park
Well I couldn’t have planned it any better myself. Snow in London; and not just light flurries, we’ve had nights of non stop blizzards dumping huge, white, fluffy flakes. Step outside and you can feel the cold hit your lungs; brisk, clean and crisp. Things happen for a reason and I think London wanted to officially welcome the big Canuck to the city. In the wake of the downed spirits, exhausted souls and the usual January depression from the aftermath of the silly season, Mother Nature gave me a little something to smile about. In some parts of the UK it snowed over 12 inches in a night – its starting to feel a little like my first home.
My office has informally nominated me as their Snow Consultant. For a fee, I can advise on everything from the best way to get your car out of the snow in the morning, the right kind of shoes to wear to avoid slipping and breaking a shoulder on the icy sidewalks, or even some advice and/or opinions on the current state of roads, infrastructure and snowplough governance in the UK.
These are all the basic and fundamental learning’s of any true Canadian, but for some parts of Europe and London’s many visitors from the southern hemisphere it’s veering a little more into unchartered territory. In fact, I was blown away when the country came to a standstill with the arrival of the white stuff. Transportation has become even more unreliable and many rail, air and road services were cancelled. We have stocked up on our canned goods, candles, and red wine; we’re ready for the lock in – bring it.
In the late 1600’s to the early 1800’s London and Europe was hit with a mini ice age which actually froze the Thames. So, if I get lucky and this Global Warming thing pans out, I could swap my tube ride into Canary Wharf with a new mode of transportation – skating.
Before I sign out, I’ll caveat my farewell in hopes that this country can find it in her heart to get organised on the snow management front so we can enjoy this great weather.
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!!
MM
Well, it’s that time of year again when you look back at the last few weeks of debaucherous eating, drinking and general over-indulgence and say to yourself “eeewwwwwww”. Then, inevitably, you decide to go on some kind of health kick to start afresh.
Well that’s what I did. I decided to go on a 10 day detox to flush the system. No caffeine, no alcohol, no nicotine, no fats or sugars, no carbs, no meat (except some chicken), no dairy. And lots of pills that we dubbed ‘poopy pills’… I’m sure you get the idea.
So many challenges! The question for me was which restriction was going to get me first? Alcohol was the obvious one, so I started on a Tuesday to lessen the risk of caving early, which on the whole worked. And going without my tea usually has me crawling up the walls (if you don’t already know how much I love tea, see my previous post “Oh, for the Love of Tea).
But what got me this time was my sweet tooth, which apparently seems to increase a few notches when I am going without.
So I’m sitting at my desk at 3:30pm Friday afternoon (a dangerous time) and I can’t do a bloody thing, my brain is mush without the caffeine. I’m craving something sweet like its going out of style – probably because I’ve been eating like a rabbit since Tuesday. I usually solve all my work problems with tea – a strong cup with two sugars would have got me through, but I was so strung out I HAD to have a double chocolate chunk muffin. Oops.
But it didn’t end there. Literally 2 seconds after I finished stuffing my face with chocolate muffin one of my colleagues comes past with a delivery of free chocolate bars to share – THIS IS NOT A LIE. Well, I’m already going to hell so why not? I eat the chocolate bar. And THEN we had a birthday celebration for my boss with chocolate cake, flapjack bites and jam donuts for all – especially me. The irony is that they actually served all the food from my desk.
So as you can see the universe conspired to make me break my detox.
But seriously, thank god it’s over. I rarely diet like this because it makes me obsess about food. I’ll admit that as I get older I am more health conscious, but I’ll always maintain that the best way to put on weight is to diet. It forces your life to revolve around food which makes me eat more if it. So back to my usual diet regime of do whatever you want. YIPPPPEEEE! I need a glass of vino….
I have heard the expression “that/it/he/she is very American” a lot in London and I’ve come to understand that this could mean that the subject is one or more of loud, direct, happy, chatty, brash, enthusiastic or obvious. Sometimes good, mostly bad.
The English do seem to pride themselves on a certain level of subtleness; I think it makes them feel clever. Indeed, it makes me think they are clever. I have to congratulate them on a wonderfully unique sense of humour, for me best represented in the TV character Humphrey Applebey from Yes, Minister (does anyone know who I’m talking about here??) The dry wit, the one-liners, the subtle stabs… and the most impeccable timing ever
But let’s not underestimate our friends on the other side of the Atlantic. There are always 2 sides to every story and in my opinion, America bashing is getting old. Yes, we know Americans are loud, overbearing, intrusive wise-asses, blah blah blah… get over it. The fact of the matter is that American’s are also lots of good things – positive and optimistic being two of them. But also friendly, open, sociable; in fact I would argue that the positive traits of the Americans balance the negative traits of the English and vice versa. Oh yes, how nicely that fits.
I’m beginning also to think of Australia as a middle ground between the two polar opposites of the UK and America. We are influenced heavily, but equally, by both. And of course, we’ve taken the good bits from both sides. Good sense of humour, polite (?), like (LOVE) a drink, but also happy, friendly and sociable. Yes, yes, that’s us!
louashton
