Scattered mess of a human. Having a coffee addiction probably doesn't help matters.

Instagram: RosalieAva

"this totally fits my aesthetic"

After spending so many weekends at Portobello and Camden Markets, the girls and I decided to change things up a bit and visit Alyssa in Hoxton. She lives a mere 2 minute walk from The Breakfast Club, meaning Sunday brunch was a must. Standing in line is a blur to me now, because yes, the food was that good. I picked my poison, pancakes with berries and cream (am I a food blogger now?) and it was everything I had hoped for and more.

After brunch we headed to The Columbia Road Flower Market (a florist must have her flowers). The atmosphere of the area is incredible. It reminded me of Brooklyn; mixed with a costal Scandinavian town and a dash of Olde City, Philadelphia (oh god, I’m even speaking in cooking terms). The girls and I were jotting down the names of cool looking coffee shops at a furious pace.

The clothing styles ranged from ‘eccentric artist with unlimited funds’ to ‘probably plays banjo in an indie folk band with other attractive bearded friends.’ In other words, my type of people.

I’ll be returning once I tear through my closet and find my best, “eclectic, but ‘hey you with the scruff, come talk to me’” outfit. And once I figure out how to visit 7 coffee shops in one day without dying of a caffeine overdose. I’ll keep you posted.

(authors note: I cannot be held accountable for my caffeine-induced thought process after midnight, which is when this will be posted)
"this totally fits my aesthetic"

After spending so many weekends at Portobello and Camden Markets, the girls and I decided to change things up a bit and visit Alyssa in Hoxton. She lives a mere 2 minute walk from The Breakfast Club, meaning Sunday brunch was a must. Standing in line is a blur to me now, because yes, the food was that good. I picked my poison, pancakes with berries and cream (am I a food blogger now?) and it was everything I had hoped for and more.

After brunch we headed to The Columbia Road Flower Market (a florist must have her flowers). The atmosphere of the area is incredible. It reminded me of Brooklyn; mixed with a costal Scandinavian town and a dash of Olde City, Philadelphia (oh god, I’m even speaking in cooking terms). The girls and I were jotting down the names of cool looking coffee shops at a furious pace.

The clothing styles ranged from ‘eccentric artist with unlimited funds’ to ‘probably plays banjo in an indie folk band with other attractive bearded friends.’ In other words, my type of people.

I’ll be returning once I tear through my closet and find my best, “eclectic, but ‘hey you with the scruff, come talk to me’” outfit. And once I figure out how to visit 7 coffee shops in one day without dying of a caffeine overdose. I’ll keep you posted.

(authors note: I cannot be held accountable for my caffeine-induced thought process after midnight, which is when this will be posted)
"this totally fits my aesthetic"

After spending so many weekends at Portobello and Camden Markets, the girls and I decided to change things up a bit and visit Alyssa in Hoxton. She lives a mere 2 minute walk from The Breakfast Club, meaning Sunday brunch was a must. Standing in line is a blur to me now, because yes, the food was that good. I picked my poison, pancakes with berries and cream (am I a food blogger now?) and it was everything I had hoped for and more.

After brunch we headed to The Columbia Road Flower Market (a florist must have her flowers). The atmosphere of the area is incredible. It reminded me of Brooklyn; mixed with a costal Scandinavian town and a dash of Olde City, Philadelphia (oh god, I’m even speaking in cooking terms). The girls and I were jotting down the names of cool looking coffee shops at a furious pace.

The clothing styles ranged from ‘eccentric artist with unlimited funds’ to ‘probably plays banjo in an indie folk band with other attractive bearded friends.’ In other words, my type of people.

I’ll be returning once I tear through my closet and find my best, “eclectic, but ‘hey you with the scruff, come talk to me’” outfit. And once I figure out how to visit 7 coffee shops in one day without dying of a caffeine overdose. I’ll keep you posted.

(authors note: I cannot be held accountable for my caffeine-induced thought process after midnight, which is when this will be posted)

"this totally fits my aesthetic"

After spending so many weekends at Portobello and Camden Markets, the girls and I decided to change things up a bit and visit Alyssa in Hoxton. She lives a mere 2 minute walk from The Breakfast Club, meaning Sunday brunch was a must. Standing in line is a blur to me now, because yes, the food was that good. I picked my poison, pancakes with berries and cream (am I a food blogger now?) and it was everything I had hoped for and more.

After brunch we headed to The Columbia Road Flower Market (a florist must have her flowers). The atmosphere of the area is incredible. It reminded me of Brooklyn; mixed with a costal Scandinavian town and a dash of Olde City, Philadelphia (oh god, I’m even speaking in cooking terms). The girls and I were jotting down the names of cool looking coffee shops at a furious pace.

The clothing styles ranged from ‘eccentric artist with unlimited funds’ to ‘probably plays banjo in an indie folk band with other attractive bearded friends.’ In other words, my type of people.

I’ll be returning once I tear through my closet and find my best, “eclectic, but ‘hey you with the scruff, come talk to me’” outfit. And once I figure out how to visit 7 coffee shops in one day without dying of a caffeine overdose. I’ll keep you posted.

(authors note: I cannot be held accountable for my caffeine-induced thought process after midnight, which is when this will be posted)

"I must have flowers, always, and always"

Saturday was filled with flowers. Sarah had a brilliant idea for a shoot- which involved transforming my flat into a fairytale like setting with massive amounts of garden roses, tulips, baby’s breath, and hydrangea. 

Fully aware that I looked like I stepped out of time, (I received an endless amount of stares from tourists and locals alike) we shot outside around Notting Hill. Portobello Market was in full swing, so we took advantage of the bustling flower markets to make our days purchases. Sarah took some solo shots of me before we met up with Alyssa and heading back my flat. We then created a whimsical wonderland (aka tore the living room apart). I was so happy to be doing floral work; making flower crowns and the vased arrangements which surrounded us. Being able to be creative once again was a sigh of relief (artists don’t take to being on vacation very well) and I was so happy to add these pieces to my portfolio. 

Sarah’s stunning work can be seen at www.sarahratner.com
"I must have flowers, always, and always"

Saturday was filled with flowers. Sarah had a brilliant idea for a shoot- which involved transforming my flat into a fairytale like setting with massive amounts of garden roses, tulips, baby’s breath, and hydrangea. 

Fully aware that I looked like I stepped out of time, (I received an endless amount of stares from tourists and locals alike) we shot outside around Notting Hill. Portobello Market was in full swing, so we took advantage of the bustling flower markets to make our days purchases. Sarah took some solo shots of me before we met up with Alyssa and heading back my flat. We then created a whimsical wonderland (aka tore the living room apart). I was so happy to be doing floral work; making flower crowns and the vased arrangements which surrounded us. Being able to be creative once again was a sigh of relief (artists don’t take to being on vacation very well) and I was so happy to add these pieces to my portfolio. 

Sarah’s stunning work can be seen at www.sarahratner.com
"I must have flowers, always, and always"

Saturday was filled with flowers. Sarah had a brilliant idea for a shoot- which involved transforming my flat into a fairytale like setting with massive amounts of garden roses, tulips, baby’s breath, and hydrangea. 

Fully aware that I looked like I stepped out of time, (I received an endless amount of stares from tourists and locals alike) we shot outside around Notting Hill. Portobello Market was in full swing, so we took advantage of the bustling flower markets to make our days purchases. Sarah took some solo shots of me before we met up with Alyssa and heading back my flat. We then created a whimsical wonderland (aka tore the living room apart). I was so happy to be doing floral work; making flower crowns and the vased arrangements which surrounded us. Being able to be creative once again was a sigh of relief (artists don’t take to being on vacation very well) and I was so happy to add these pieces to my portfolio. 

Sarah’s stunning work can be seen at www.sarahratner.com
"I must have flowers, always, and always"

Saturday was filled with flowers. Sarah had a brilliant idea for a shoot- which involved transforming my flat into a fairytale like setting with massive amounts of garden roses, tulips, baby’s breath, and hydrangea. 

Fully aware that I looked like I stepped out of time, (I received an endless amount of stares from tourists and locals alike) we shot outside around Notting Hill. Portobello Market was in full swing, so we took advantage of the bustling flower markets to make our days purchases. Sarah took some solo shots of me before we met up with Alyssa and heading back my flat. We then created a whimsical wonderland (aka tore the living room apart). I was so happy to be doing floral work; making flower crowns and the vased arrangements which surrounded us. Being able to be creative once again was a sigh of relief (artists don’t take to being on vacation very well) and I was so happy to add these pieces to my portfolio. 

Sarah’s stunning work can be seen at www.sarahratner.com
"I must have flowers, always, and always"

Saturday was filled with flowers. Sarah had a brilliant idea for a shoot- which involved transforming my flat into a fairytale like setting with massive amounts of garden roses, tulips, baby’s breath, and hydrangea. 

Fully aware that I looked like I stepped out of time, (I received an endless amount of stares from tourists and locals alike) we shot outside around Notting Hill. Portobello Market was in full swing, so we took advantage of the bustling flower markets to make our days purchases. Sarah took some solo shots of me before we met up with Alyssa and heading back my flat. We then created a whimsical wonderland (aka tore the living room apart). I was so happy to be doing floral work; making flower crowns and the vased arrangements which surrounded us. Being able to be creative once again was a sigh of relief (artists don’t take to being on vacation very well) and I was so happy to add these pieces to my portfolio. 

Sarah’s stunning work can be seen at www.sarahratner.com
"I must have flowers, always, and always"

Saturday was filled with flowers. Sarah had a brilliant idea for a shoot- which involved transforming my flat into a fairytale like setting with massive amounts of garden roses, tulips, baby’s breath, and hydrangea. 

Fully aware that I looked like I stepped out of time, (I received an endless amount of stares from tourists and locals alike) we shot outside around Notting Hill. Portobello Market was in full swing, so we took advantage of the bustling flower markets to make our days purchases. Sarah took some solo shots of me before we met up with Alyssa and heading back my flat. We then created a whimsical wonderland (aka tore the living room apart). I was so happy to be doing floral work; making flower crowns and the vased arrangements which surrounded us. Being able to be creative once again was a sigh of relief (artists don’t take to being on vacation very well) and I was so happy to add these pieces to my portfolio. 

Sarah’s stunning work can be seen at www.sarahratner.com

"I must have flowers, always, and always"

Saturday was filled with flowers. Sarah had a brilliant idea for a shoot- which involved transforming my flat into a fairytale like setting with massive amounts of garden roses, tulips, baby’s breath, and hydrangea.

Fully aware that I looked like I stepped out of time, (I received an endless amount of stares from tourists and locals alike) we shot outside around Notting Hill. Portobello Market was in full swing, so we took advantage of the bustling flower markets to make our days purchases. Sarah took some solo shots of me before we met up with Alyssa and heading back my flat. We then created a whimsical wonderland (aka tore the living room apart). I was so happy to be doing floral work; making flower crowns and the vased arrangements which surrounded us. Being able to be creative once again was a sigh of relief (artists don’t take to being on vacation very well) and I was so happy to add these pieces to my portfolio.

Sarah’s stunning work can be seen at www.sarahratner.com

my life has come full circle

I can quote The Parent Trap line for line. My 4 year old self fell in love with the worlds most absurd plot line (I will fight anyone who tries to bring up its discrepancies, don’t try me on this). I’m 21 now, and it’s still one of my all time favorite films, and the main reason I’ve always wanted to live in London. 

In some ironic twist of fate, I saw Lindsay Lohan having cocktails with friends in Mayfair. It was a surreal experience (not because she’s famous, I’m not one to lose my cool over spotting a celebrity doing everyday activities) but because my childhood was sitting right in front of me. I felt a strange sense of comfort seeing her; it was almost like a sign saying, “yes, this is where you’re meant to be, this is what you wanted and you’ve made it.”

That was a terrible analogy but honestly I can’t think of how to properly word how I feel. I was overcome with an overwhelming feeling of warmth and belonging. And nostalgia. 

The photos are from my walk with Victoria through Hyde Park. The sky, a brilliant blueish-grey hue that is so typical of England, begged to be photographed. I obliged.
my life has come full circle

I can quote The Parent Trap line for line. My 4 year old self fell in love with the worlds most absurd plot line (I will fight anyone who tries to bring up its discrepancies, don’t try me on this). I’m 21 now, and it’s still one of my all time favorite films, and the main reason I’ve always wanted to live in London. 

In some ironic twist of fate, I saw Lindsay Lohan having cocktails with friends in Mayfair. It was a surreal experience (not because she’s famous, I’m not one to lose my cool over spotting a celebrity doing everyday activities) but because my childhood was sitting right in front of me. I felt a strange sense of comfort seeing her; it was almost like a sign saying, “yes, this is where you’re meant to be, this is what you wanted and you’ve made it.”

That was a terrible analogy but honestly I can’t think of how to properly word how I feel. I was overcome with an overwhelming feeling of warmth and belonging. And nostalgia. 

The photos are from my walk with Victoria through Hyde Park. The sky, a brilliant blueish-grey hue that is so typical of England, begged to be photographed. I obliged.

my life has come full circle

I can quote The Parent Trap line for line. My 4 year old self fell in love with the worlds most absurd plot line (I will fight anyone who tries to bring up its discrepancies, don’t try me on this). I’m 21 now, and it’s still one of my all time favorite films, and the main reason I’ve always wanted to live in London.

In some ironic twist of fate, I saw Lindsay Lohan having cocktails with friends in Mayfair. It was a surreal experience (not because she’s famous, I’m not one to lose my cool over spotting a celebrity doing everyday activities) but because my childhood was sitting right in front of me. I felt a strange sense of comfort seeing her; it was almost like a sign saying, “yes, this is where you’re meant to be, this is what you wanted and you’ve made it.”

That was a terrible analogy but honestly I can’t think of how to properly word how I feel. I was overcome with an overwhelming feeling of warmth and belonging. And nostalgia.

The photos are from my walk with Victoria through Hyde Park. The sky, a brilliant blueish-grey hue that is so typical of England, begged to be photographed. I obliged.

"oh my god you have to try this"

I could write sonnets about the food in Camden Market.

No really, I could; if this picture offers any evidence (I looked like a sleep deprived serial killer, but I digress).

Camden Town is the only place I know of that looks scarier in the day time (I’ve wandered around at 3am trying to find the night bus and been perfectly fine). I think it has something to do with the abundance of goth-styled leather trench coats being sold, but even more frightening are the tourist traps and fake designer bags (fake Chanel can be terrifying). There’s also that futuristic sex shop that reminds me of a Zenon: Girl of the 21st Century-esque porno (Zenon was a staple of my late 90s/early 2000s existence, I don’t want to see her defiled like this).  

What I’m trying to say is, there are a slew of characters to write about. For instance, the boy who hand paints Supra’s in front of their store, or the owner of the hole-in-the-wall record shop who doesn’t look much older than me, or that one guy who told me he loved me immediately upon our meeting (which is creepy but I’ll consider it writing material). The moral of this story? If you want characters, go to Camden Town. 

Plus, the food really is ridiculously  good.
"oh my god you have to try this"

I could write sonnets about the food in Camden Market.

No really, I could; if this picture offers any evidence (I looked like a sleep deprived serial killer, but I digress).

Camden Town is the only place I know of that looks scarier in the day time (I’ve wandered around at 3am trying to find the night bus and been perfectly fine). I think it has something to do with the abundance of goth-styled leather trench coats being sold, but even more frightening are the tourist traps and fake designer bags (fake Chanel can be terrifying). There’s also that futuristic sex shop that reminds me of a Zenon: Girl of the 21st Century-esque porno (Zenon was a staple of my late 90s/early 2000s existence, I don’t want to see her defiled like this).  

What I’m trying to say is, there are a slew of characters to write about. For instance, the boy who hand paints Supra’s in front of their store, or the owner of the hole-in-the-wall record shop who doesn’t look much older than me, or that one guy who told me he loved me immediately upon our meeting (which is creepy but I’ll consider it writing material). The moral of this story? If you want characters, go to Camden Town. 

Plus, the food really is ridiculously  good.
"oh my god you have to try this"

I could write sonnets about the food in Camden Market.

No really, I could; if this picture offers any evidence (I looked like a sleep deprived serial killer, but I digress).

Camden Town is the only place I know of that looks scarier in the day time (I’ve wandered around at 3am trying to find the night bus and been perfectly fine). I think it has something to do with the abundance of goth-styled leather trench coats being sold, but even more frightening are the tourist traps and fake designer bags (fake Chanel can be terrifying). There’s also that futuristic sex shop that reminds me of a Zenon: Girl of the 21st Century-esque porno (Zenon was a staple of my late 90s/early 2000s existence, I don’t want to see her defiled like this).  

What I’m trying to say is, there are a slew of characters to write about. For instance, the boy who hand paints Supra’s in front of their store, or the owner of the hole-in-the-wall record shop who doesn’t look much older than me, or that one guy who told me he loved me immediately upon our meeting (which is creepy but I’ll consider it writing material). The moral of this story? If you want characters, go to Camden Town. 

Plus, the food really is ridiculously  good.

"oh my god you have to try this"

I could write sonnets about the food in Camden Market.

No really, I could; if this picture offers any evidence (I looked like a sleep deprived serial killer, but I digress).

Camden Town is the only place I know of that looks scarier in the day time (I’ve wandered around at 3am trying to find the night bus and been perfectly fine). I think it has something to do with the abundance of goth-styled leather trench coats being sold, but even more frightening are the tourist traps and fake designer bags (fake Chanel can be terrifying). There’s also that futuristic sex shop that reminds me of a Zenon: Girl of the 21st Century-esque porno (Zenon was a staple of my late 90s/early 2000s existence, I don’t want to see her defiled like this).

What I’m trying to say is, there are a slew of characters to write about. For instance, the boy who hand paints Supra’s in front of their store, or the owner of the hole-in-the-wall record shop who doesn’t look much older than me, or that one guy who told me he loved me immediately upon our meeting (which is creepy but I’ll consider it writing material). The moral of this story? If you want characters, go to Camden Town.

Plus, the food really is ridiculously good.

(the cameras reminded me of Sarah // Portobello Rd)

petty cash

Saturday was a day of expensive taste and limited funds. I noticed a stall of gorgeous mink coats; I approached and before I knew it the vendor had me buttoned up into a £700 vintage fur. “They go upwards of £9,000,” he said. I talked with him for a good ten minutes, casually draped in the luxury, knowing full well I wasn’t going to purchase it. He gave me his card anyway.

Vicka needed to have a ring polished, so we found ourselves in a vintage jewelry shop, where the doorman promptly clicked the lock shut upon our entry. An artful mix of Cartier watches from the 1920’s, as well as emerald and ruby rings from 30’s lay encased in glass. She asked to look at a pair of diamond earrings, with a cool price tag of £17,000. The man behind the counter didn’t bat an eyelid as he read the number. I flinched. 

We ended up in a little coffee shop with industrial fixtures and heavy wooden tables. A large Americano with milk, £1.90. I paid in pocket change.
(the cameras reminded me of Sarah // Portobello Rd)

petty cash

Saturday was a day of expensive taste and limited funds. I noticed a stall of gorgeous mink coats; I approached and before I knew it the vendor had me buttoned up into a £700 vintage fur. “They go upwards of £9,000,” he said. I talked with him for a good ten minutes, casually draped in the luxury, knowing full well I wasn’t going to purchase it. He gave me his card anyway.

Vicka needed to have a ring polished, so we found ourselves in a vintage jewelry shop, where the doorman promptly clicked the lock shut upon our entry. An artful mix of Cartier watches from the 1920’s, as well as emerald and ruby rings from 30’s lay encased in glass. She asked to look at a pair of diamond earrings, with a cool price tag of £17,000. The man behind the counter didn’t bat an eyelid as he read the number. I flinched. 

We ended up in a little coffee shop with industrial fixtures and heavy wooden tables. A large Americano with milk, £1.90. I paid in pocket change.

(the cameras reminded me of Sarah // Portobello Rd)

petty cash

Saturday was a day of expensive taste and limited funds. I noticed a stall of gorgeous mink coats; I approached and before I knew it the vendor had me buttoned up into a £700 vintage fur. “They go upwards of £9,000,” he said. I talked with him for a good ten minutes, casually draped in the luxury, knowing full well I wasn’t going to purchase it. He gave me his card anyway.

Vicka needed to have a ring polished, so we found ourselves in a vintage jewelry shop, where the doorman promptly clicked the lock shut upon our entry. An artful mix of Cartier watches from the 1920’s, as well as emerald and ruby rings from 30’s lay encased in glass. She asked to look at a pair of diamond earrings, with a cool price tag of £17,000. The man behind the counter didn’t bat an eyelid as he read the number. I flinched.

We ended up in a little coffee shop with industrial fixtures and heavy wooden tables. A large Americano with milk, £1.90. I paid in pocket change.

a lesson in gratitude 

This morning I left my building and found a woman sitting on the front step, eating a sandwich. She immediately started to apologize in rapid-fire, heavily accented English. 

“I’m sorry, I’m waiting, she’s not here yet, she’ll be here soon.” 

I could barely keep up, let alone understand what she was referring too. I smiled and nodded reassuringly. 

“I’m just waiting,” she said again, and I finally realized what she meant; she was one of the cleaning women, and was waiting for the other to arrive. She didn’t want me to think she was loitering on the front steps. 

“Do you want me to leave the door open?” I asked. 

“No no no! She’ll be here soon!”

“It’s alright. It’s fine, don’t worry!” I said with a smile. This poor woman was so needlessly upset. I wondered how many times people had sneered at her or told her off for waiting. The same people whose houses she cleaned. I wonder how many people thanked her. She exhaled slowly and gave a me a timid smile. I smiled back.

down by the seaside  
Saturday was spent exploring the seaside town of Brighton. Our first stop was the Royal Pavilion. I suppose we were meant to be impressed with its detail; however I couldn’t get past how gaudy and overdone the interior decoration was- to the point of tacky. The girls and I moved through it as quickly as we could (I’ll stick to my white walls and minimalist spaces).
Naturally it rained for the majority of the day. Sarah however, took full advantage of the gloomy atmosphere after she spotted the abandoned West Pier in the water. Ignoring the cold rain and foreboding skies, we ran down to the beach for a mini shoot. Donned in black and armed with half a sandwich (looking like a half drowned Edgar Allan Poe) I managed to summon some seagulls, and she got the shots she wanted.
Thoroughly drenched, we met back up with the girls, and stopped into a cozy pub for lunch of (what else?) fish and chips. The skies were bright and sunny as we stepped outside, so we grabbed ice cream and headed back to the pier. Being in Brighton was a refreshing change for the day, but I was happy to head back to London. More than anything, the bus ride through the English countryside made me miss it terribly. I think I’ll plan a trip to Yorkshire very soon.
down by the seaside  
Saturday was spent exploring the seaside town of Brighton. Our first stop was the Royal Pavilion. I suppose we were meant to be impressed with its detail; however I couldn’t get past how gaudy and overdone the interior decoration was- to the point of tacky. The girls and I moved through it as quickly as we could (I’ll stick to my white walls and minimalist spaces).
Naturally it rained for the majority of the day. Sarah however, took full advantage of the gloomy atmosphere after she spotted the abandoned West Pier in the water. Ignoring the cold rain and foreboding skies, we ran down to the beach for a mini shoot. Donned in black and armed with half a sandwich (looking like a half drowned Edgar Allan Poe) I managed to summon some seagulls, and she got the shots she wanted.
Thoroughly drenched, we met back up with the girls, and stopped into a cozy pub for lunch of (what else?) fish and chips. The skies were bright and sunny as we stepped outside, so we grabbed ice cream and headed back to the pier. Being in Brighton was a refreshing change for the day, but I was happy to head back to London. More than anything, the bus ride through the English countryside made me miss it terribly. I think I’ll plan a trip to Yorkshire very soon.
down by the seaside  
Saturday was spent exploring the seaside town of Brighton. Our first stop was the Royal Pavilion. I suppose we were meant to be impressed with its detail; however I couldn’t get past how gaudy and overdone the interior decoration was- to the point of tacky. The girls and I moved through it as quickly as we could (I’ll stick to my white walls and minimalist spaces).
Naturally it rained for the majority of the day. Sarah however, took full advantage of the gloomy atmosphere after she spotted the abandoned West Pier in the water. Ignoring the cold rain and foreboding skies, we ran down to the beach for a mini shoot. Donned in black and armed with half a sandwich (looking like a half drowned Edgar Allan Poe) I managed to summon some seagulls, and she got the shots she wanted.
Thoroughly drenched, we met back up with the girls, and stopped into a cozy pub for lunch of (what else?) fish and chips. The skies were bright and sunny as we stepped outside, so we grabbed ice cream and headed back to the pier. Being in Brighton was a refreshing change for the day, but I was happy to head back to London. More than anything, the bus ride through the English countryside made me miss it terribly. I think I’ll plan a trip to Yorkshire very soon.

down by the seaside  

Saturday was spent exploring the seaside town of Brighton. Our first stop was the Royal Pavilion. I suppose we were meant to be impressed with its detail; however I couldn’t get past how gaudy and overdone the interior decoration was- to the point of tacky. The girls and I moved through it as quickly as we could (I’ll stick to my white walls and minimalist spaces).

Naturally it rained for the majority of the day. Sarah however, took full advantage of the gloomy atmosphere after she spotted the abandoned West Pier in the water. Ignoring the cold rain and foreboding skies, we ran down to the beach for a mini shoot. Donned in black and armed with half a sandwich (looking like a half drowned Edgar Allan Poe) I managed to summon some seagulls, and she got the shots she wanted.

Thoroughly drenched, we met back up with the girls, and stopped into a cozy pub for lunch of (what else?) fish and chips. The skies were bright and sunny as we stepped outside, so we grabbed ice cream and headed back to the pier. Being in Brighton was a refreshing change for the day, but I was happy to head back to London. More than anything, the bus ride through the English countryside made me miss it terribly. I think I’ll plan a trip to Yorkshire very soon.

thirteen stops later
The girls and I needed something to do Saturday afternoon, so we hopped on the tube and chose a random destination. We settled on Bethnal Green (“It sounds like something out of a film!”- Sarah) and took a slightly longer than average tube ride. It was worth it. We landed in the middle of a residential area (not ideal) and walked through a pretty park till we found the main road. Bethnal Green is a working class town in comparison to where we are in Notting Hill, and so it was nice to see the everyday side of London life. Sarah spotted the cutest coffee shop called The Gallery, (very boho/indie/dare-I-say hipster vibe) and we all decided a cup of coffee was much needed. Upon entering we found out they also served a wide range of vegetarian and vegan food, which smelled amazing. There was also a sweet little back garden with seating, so we found a table outside and took advantage of the gorgeous weather.
Sarah and I decided to go out to an indie club in Camden Town (where else?) called Barfly later that night. It met our three requirements: cheap entry fee, cheap drinks, and good music. Camden’s such a cool place for those with more eclectic tastes. Everyone seems to be in their early/mid 20s, and either working or students, so we fit in well. It lacks the stuffiness of Kensington/Chelsea; everyone’s a bit more grungy and loud and willing to have fun. Overall we had a really nice time.
thirteen stops later
The girls and I needed something to do Saturday afternoon, so we hopped on the tube and chose a random destination. We settled on Bethnal Green (“It sounds like something out of a film!”- Sarah) and took a slightly longer than average tube ride. It was worth it. We landed in the middle of a residential area (not ideal) and walked through a pretty park till we found the main road. Bethnal Green is a working class town in comparison to where we are in Notting Hill, and so it was nice to see the everyday side of London life. Sarah spotted the cutest coffee shop called The Gallery, (very boho/indie/dare-I-say hipster vibe) and we all decided a cup of coffee was much needed. Upon entering we found out they also served a wide range of vegetarian and vegan food, which smelled amazing. There was also a sweet little back garden with seating, so we found a table outside and took advantage of the gorgeous weather.
Sarah and I decided to go out to an indie club in Camden Town (where else?) called Barfly later that night. It met our three requirements: cheap entry fee, cheap drinks, and good music. Camden’s such a cool place for those with more eclectic tastes. Everyone seems to be in their early/mid 20s, and either working or students, so we fit in well. It lacks the stuffiness of Kensington/Chelsea; everyone’s a bit more grungy and loud and willing to have fun. Overall we had a really nice time.

thirteen stops later

The girls and I needed something to do Saturday afternoon, so we hopped on the tube and chose a random destination. We settled on Bethnal Green (“It sounds like something out of a film!”- Sarah) and took a slightly longer than average tube ride. It was worth it. We landed in the middle of a residential area (not ideal) and walked through a pretty park till we found the main road. Bethnal Green is a working class town in comparison to where we are in Notting Hill, and so it was nice to see the everyday side of London life. Sarah spotted the cutest coffee shop called The Gallery, (very boho/indie/dare-I-say hipster vibe) and we all decided a cup of coffee was much needed. Upon entering we found out they also served a wide range of vegetarian and vegan food, which smelled amazing. There was also a sweet little back garden with seating, so we found a table outside and took advantage of the gorgeous weather.

Sarah and I decided to go out to an indie club in Camden Town (where else?) called Barfly later that night. It met our three requirements: cheap entry fee, cheap drinks, and good music. Camden’s such a cool place for those with more eclectic tastes. Everyone seems to be in their early/mid 20s, and either working or students, so we fit in well. It lacks the stuffiness of Kensington/Chelsea; everyone’s a bit more grungy and loud and willing to have fun. Overall we had a really nice time.

credibility 
I like the differences in thoughts between people who have been to London before and people who haven’t. The people who have never been here before have such different conversations than the ones who have; they’re so enchanted with everything and everyone.
Everyone takes my major seriously here which is such a refreshing change from home. I’m actually considered intelligent for studying sociology; people are impressed that it’s my chosen course. I remember reading an article in the New York Times about a year ago talking about the importance placed upon the social sciences in the UK. It was obviously a pleasant surprise to know that someone, somewhere, didn’t treat sociology as a joke. I’m not sure why there’s such a stigma against the social sciences- actually, I know why, but I’m choosing to ignore the fact that it all comes down to what my future salary will be. Like the time my great aunt told me, point blank, to “marry rich.”
I had a point to all of this, though I lost it in the midst of trying to multitask. I think what I was attempting to say is that it gets very frustrating having people look down on you going into a profession that they don’t approve of. So when I meet someone, whether it be in class, or in a pub, and they take genuine interest in my studies, it gives me a surge of confidence.
credibility 
I like the differences in thoughts between people who have been to London before and people who haven’t. The people who have never been here before have such different conversations than the ones who have; they’re so enchanted with everything and everyone.
Everyone takes my major seriously here which is such a refreshing change from home. I’m actually considered intelligent for studying sociology; people are impressed that it’s my chosen course. I remember reading an article in the New York Times about a year ago talking about the importance placed upon the social sciences in the UK. It was obviously a pleasant surprise to know that someone, somewhere, didn’t treat sociology as a joke. I’m not sure why there’s such a stigma against the social sciences- actually, I know why, but I’m choosing to ignore the fact that it all comes down to what my future salary will be. Like the time my great aunt told me, point blank, to “marry rich.”
I had a point to all of this, though I lost it in the midst of trying to multitask. I think what I was attempting to say is that it gets very frustrating having people look down on you going into a profession that they don’t approve of. So when I meet someone, whether it be in class, or in a pub, and they take genuine interest in my studies, it gives me a surge of confidence.

credibility 

I like the differences in thoughts between people who have been to London before and people who haven’t. The people who have never been here before have such different conversations than the ones who have; they’re so enchanted with everything and everyone.

Everyone takes my major seriously here which is such a refreshing change from home. I’m actually considered intelligent for studying sociology; people are impressed that it’s my chosen course. I remember reading an article in the New York Times about a year ago talking about the importance placed upon the social sciences in the UK. It was obviously a pleasant surprise to know that someone, somewhere, didn’t treat sociology as a joke. I’m not sure why there’s such a stigma against the social sciences- actually, I know why, but I’m choosing to ignore the fact that it all comes down to what my future salary will be. Like the time my great aunt told me, point blank, to “marry rich.”

I had a point to all of this, though I lost it in the midst of trying to multitask. I think what I was attempting to say is that it gets very frustrating having people look down on you going into a profession that they don’t approve of. So when I meet someone, whether it be in class, or in a pub, and they take genuine interest in my studies, it gives me a surge of confidence.

pinch me, I’m dreaming
Continuing on about cliches from my last post…
One of my roommates just walked in and said she met a famous playwright. In a coffee shop. On Portobello Road. He asked her if she was an actress (she is, she’s studying at the theater school) and proceeded to talk to her about his writing, and the time he met Tennessee Williams.
The above images were taken at Somerset House, during London Fashion Week. Another dream of mine which came true. Granted, I wasn’t invited to the shows, but I was photographed by a few street style photographers for their blogs. I also spotted a very famous male model, who turned out to be incredibly down to earth. My friend Sarah asked to photograph him for her own blog and he happily obliged, engaging her in conversation the whole time.
I feel like I’m living in some sort of parallel universe/dream world. I’m going to take every opportunity thrown my way. I’m going to write about everyone and everything I see. This blog is going to get a lot of use (hopefully not overused and messy). Maybe coffee shops aren’t so cliche after all.
pinch me, I’m dreaming
Continuing on about cliches from my last post…
One of my roommates just walked in and said she met a famous playwright. In a coffee shop. On Portobello Road. He asked her if she was an actress (she is, she’s studying at the theater school) and proceeded to talk to her about his writing, and the time he met Tennessee Williams.
The above images were taken at Somerset House, during London Fashion Week. Another dream of mine which came true. Granted, I wasn’t invited to the shows, but I was photographed by a few street style photographers for their blogs. I also spotted a very famous male model, who turned out to be incredibly down to earth. My friend Sarah asked to photograph him for her own blog and he happily obliged, engaging her in conversation the whole time.
I feel like I’m living in some sort of parallel universe/dream world. I’m going to take every opportunity thrown my way. I’m going to write about everyone and everything I see. This blog is going to get a lot of use (hopefully not overused and messy). Maybe coffee shops aren’t so cliche after all.

pinch me, I’m dreaming

Continuing on about cliches from my last post…

One of my roommates just walked in and said she met a famous playwright. In a coffee shop. On Portobello Road. He asked her if she was an actress (she is, she’s studying at the theater school) and proceeded to talk to her about his writing, and the time he met Tennessee Williams.

The above images were taken at Somerset House, during London Fashion Week. Another dream of mine which came true. Granted, I wasn’t invited to the shows, but I was photographed by a few street style photographers for their blogs. I also spotted a very famous male model, who turned out to be incredibly down to earth. My friend Sarah asked to photograph him for her own blog and he happily obliged, engaging her in conversation the whole time.

I feel like I’m living in some sort of parallel universe/dream world. I’m going to take every opportunity thrown my way. I’m going to write about everyone and everything I see. This blog is going to get a lot of use (hopefully not overused and messy). Maybe coffee shops aren’t so cliche after all.