Afternoon Tea at The Ritz; London Bucket List

We are clad in our finest. She is flounced and ruffled, I am clip clopping in florals, he is suited and brogued. The lyrics of The Nationals ‘Showered and blue Blazered” ricochet around my mind. It is a shimmering summer day and the pavements of Piccadilly are teeming with sweaty tourists in shorts. It is sweet relief to enter through heavy doors in a whoosh of cool air and step into the opulent confines of The Ritz for HighTea. We are meeting my jet-lagged and rather eccentric great aunt and uncle, who are waiting for us with bags of presents for Frankie-Rose in the Long Hall. It is marvelously pompous. Springy floral carpet propels us forward, colossal bouquets of peonies stand sentinel along the hall, stiff embossed linen cover the tables, waitors in tails bustle about genially. There are boat shoes. Ladies in two-piece pastel suits. I spot more than a few pairs of mustard slacks and I am in a sea of blazers. There is a piano and a harp. Tall marble columns and feathery palms enclose our table and a vaulted golden ceiling is above.

I mourned my lack of camera frequently!

We begin, as all things should, with Champagne. The three tiered cake stands are brought over shortly afterward, which parade tiny, perfectly fresh sandwiches, with only classic fillings, re-filled as we desire. We eat the fluffiest scones I've ever tasted, crispy vanilla slices, macaroons, raspberry tartlets, mini mille feuille, lemon drizzle, chocolate gateaux. At some point we are given a strawberry trifle and then I lose track, loosen my belt and slip into a sort of cake coma.

It's dusk by the time we leave and we take a turn around Hyde Park to aid our ailing digestive systems. I visualise my stomach waving a little white flag. Afternoon Tea at The Ritz is one of ‘Those Things’, isn't it? Like kissing on the Eiffel Tower, or rowing in Central Park. I consider myself somewhat of an expert on afternoon tea in London but I feel as though I have just met the matriarch of all High Tea, and her standards were very high. 

Details//verdict:

We had the Celebration champagne tea which cost £67 per person (a treat from my aunt and uncle!) The standard tea costs £45. It was a glorious experience with delicious food in one of the worlds most famous hotels. But honestly, in hindsight, (lowers voice to a whisper) I’ve been for equally delicious afternoon tea at other places at half the price. But I am now able to proudly strike through ‘Take Tea at The Ritz’ from my London bucket list.

Some other details; I was slightly annoyed that they wouldn’t allow us to take the food we couldn’t mnage home with us. Most places are happy to send you home with a little box of left overs (and I’m talking whole, untouched mini cakes that will otherwise go in the bin). I snuck the scones into my rucksack (yep- rucksack. A nice addition to my clutch bag, I thought) as I can’t stand the thought of that waste. Update- best suggestion ever from Lisa-Marie below,  if you go, bring a tupperware! 

Despite my aunt booking 5 months in advance, we couldn’t get a sitting until 5.30 pm, so if you want to go, prepare to book waaay in advance. 5.30 is not the best time for Frankie-Rose but she was amazingly well behaved; charming the pianist, waiters and fellow diners. In fact, she was walking around like she owned the place. Not many people can say they had tea at the Ritz at 1 years old. Start as you mean to go on Frankie, eh?! She was the only child there but the staff made us feel welcome and a high chair was waiting for us. I chickened out of breastfeeding in the restaurant but if you’re going to breastfeed in a toilet, opting for one at the Ritz, complete with fresh flowers and a plush chair, is probably not the worst option.

Mine. All mine!

With her new dolly- from my aunt. She doesnt look too impressed here but she LOVES it. Its actually quite a nice one and I always wanted my kids- boy or girl- to have one. 

Zonked in the sling afterwards!

With her Dadu and Uncle

Do you have a bucket list that includes anything in London? Anything you’ve always wanted to do? I’m lucky enough to have ticked off quite a few items of my list, including many (most?)  of London’s museums, galleries and roof gardens, climbing to the top of Big Ben, watching an open air opera in Trafalgar square, taking a boat down the river and riding the London Eye (touristy but surprisingly fun). But I still want to stay in a nice hotel for New Years Eve and watch the fireworks from a balcony. A cocktail at The Shard would be pretty nice.  I’m yet to taste the knicker bocker glory at Fortnum and Mason. And, I don’t care how tacky it looks, I’m dying to do a Duck Tour! I’d love to know your London wish list. 

Museum of Fashion & Textiles and White Cube; A Bermondsey day trip.

My sister came to stay recently and one afternoon, in order to give her a break from the incessant babysitting we subjected her to (Thanks, Es!), we took a trip to Bermondsey.

We decided on a whim to visit the Kaffe Fassett exhibition at the Museum of Fashion and Textiles, a rainbow coloured building behind London Bridge station. Kaffe, it seems, is a bit of a hit with smiley ladies in their 50's and 60's, whom had gathered there in surprising numbers given it was a rainy Tuesday morning. On display are an formidable array of quilts, paintings, shawls and amazing 80's knitted jumpers. It felt like I was being snuggled in a slightly itchy sea of woolly blankets, and I suppose I was, in a way. The space was quite dark with spot lighting, so excuse the grainy photo's. Tangentially, I also love this glimpse into Kaffe's house in The Telegraph. He mosaiced his fireplace using pieces of china he found whilst swimming at Hampstead Heath!

Frankie loved the 'feely' wall

After a soggy picnic lunch round the corner we walked the few hundred meters to White Cube. The concrete floors, white walls and strip lighting felt oddly warm and welcoming. No, really. Fresh from the fuzzy colour orgy of Kaffe Fasset I wondered if Julie Mehretu's muted canvases might seem a little flat and constrained, but it was like a cool breath of fresh air. The combination of precise architectural lines, expressive free hand mark making, and bright splashes of neon was indescribably satisfying. I think my sister thought I was nuts. She and Frankie explored the gallery together, leaving me to stand alone before each painting and just soak it up, something I rarely do- both down to choice and the eager toddler I am often chasing.  But soak it up I did. The gallery leaflet explains that Mehretu was inspired The Arab spring demonstrations, and particularly "by investigations into how architecture and geographical space, particularly within urban centres, become sites for political and mythological projection."

Who knew concrete could feel so warm? I dunno, maybe I was having some sort of weird hormone rush but I loved this space. 

We rounded off our trip with the requisite wonder around Borough Market (when in London Bridge etc etc) and I finally got to Elliots. Some friends of ours recommended both their coffee and their bread and OH MY GOODNESS, it's the best Sourdough I have ever tasted. No word of exaggeration. It was sexual. The coffee is on a par with Monmouth which is a few doors down with the added disincentive of a really long queue. Plus, I have a proclivity for places with awesome monochrome bathrooms with floor-to-wall stripes.

MEAT

CHEESE

If you're in Bermondsey, you should also check out The Old Operating Theatre, one of my favourite weird museums in London. Come to think of it, Bermondsey is but a short scenic walk along the Thames to the Tate Modern (somewhere I've spent A LOT of time over the last year!) and if you keep walking along the Thames, you'll come to the Southbank too. Although by that point you might be have experienced so much culture that you need to retreat somewhere and loudly eat McNuggets whilst perusing a greasy second hand daily paper. To balance things out.  

Anyhow, Bermondsey is clearly where its AT. 

P.S New camera is on the way! Hurray! Crap phone pictures will be a thing of the past very soon. Or at least not quite so frequent.

P.P.S THANK for your kind comments/emails/tweets etc about my Guardian article. You're the best. 

Rental sweet rental; my article for The Guardian.

Today I have an article in the Guardian about making a rented house a home, something I seem to love talking about, as evidenced in this post! I got to interview Will from Bright Bazaar and Charlotte Love, two stylists whose work I absolutely love.

I styled a few bits in my own rented house for the article, the first being my Triangles on the lounge wall. I also created a tableaux (!) by my bedside table. I strung up some vintage wallpaper from a hook on the wall, one of the ideas in the article. 

Triangle Wall Decals by UW Decals

One of my ideas was pasting wallpaper onto tall wooden boards, something I used to have in my flat years ago. I ran out of time to style this so borrowed an image from Linda at Craft Apple, who wallpapered a board to stand behind her kitchen table. Pretty hey?

I then came across the following image which beautifully illustrates the idea. This is by stylist Lo Bjurulf, and I adore, ADORE, her work. You can see more of her work here. Obviously most renters wont be able to wallpaper the actual wall, but I love her choice of wallpaper on the board. 

So. Pop on over and take a look! I'm pretty excited to be there!

This patchwork baubles tutorial was the last thing I wrote for The Guardian, and I'm hoping there wont be such a big gap between articles, next time! Although In that time I busted out a baby so I have an acceptable excuse, non?

P.S As usual, lots to blog about but, alas, no time. Thank you for sticking with me in by blog desert!

A trip to ...Penge?

You're unlikely to find Penge in any of the London guide books and I suspect there may be a good reason for that (I am very happy to hear opinions to the contrary!). But I received a tip off from the venerable Lynne (via Roddy and Ginger) about a pretty garden centre in those-there parts called Alexandra Nurseries. Upon receipt of a set of winsome familial houseguests, who like nothing better than a potter round a garden centre and a nice spot of tea, I decided to investigate further. Alexandra Nurseries, it turns out, is a tiny garden centre with cute cafe, and shop selling second hand china and pretty nic-nackery. It's crammed into an 18th century caretakers cottage and yard and has a small outdoor eating area covered in grape vines and a few vintage tables and chairs nestled in a room in the eaves of the cottage upstairs. Outside, a riot of plant life spills over from old fruit boxes, wooden ladders, and vintage enamel tins.

Afore-mentioned guests. You were expecting the grey haired, elderly variety, weren't you?

We walked off our delicious cake (with one exception- the Victorian Sponge was made with fondant icing instead of fresh whipped cream- GAH!) at the nearby is the Crystal Palace Park which houses the famous misshapen Victorian Dinosaurs. They were part of The Crystal Palace, site of the Great Exhibition, in 1854, but following a huge fire in 1936 the palace and its contents were destroyed, leaving only the dinosaurs. They have been in varying degrees of disrepair until 2002. They are marvellous, in all their anatomically incorrect glory!

Dinosaur Butt. 

In other news, all the above photo's were taken on my phone which i'll have to rely on for the foreseeable future, following the theft of our camera and lenses and our insurance company's unwillingness to cover us. Seriously. Bad times. 

We have been deluged with delightful house guests, so I've been pretty busy. Mostly napping actually. God I love napping. There have actually been vast improvements on the baby sleep front (for another post) but when will I start to feel better?! I have this weird moving-through-honey feeling, much more awake but way more exhausted. I just feel weird. 

I have many half written blog posts languishing in the 'drafts' grave yard which I hope to complete soon. 

I am also actually really finally designing a new blog. I'll reveal all soon. Very exciting. 

Ok end of stream of consciousness. 

London Grammar music video- My misters latest project.

My misters latest music video was released yesterday, and, well,  wow.  I know I say this every time but its my favourite so far. This project demanded a lot of him; 15 hour days, through-the-night shifts, and some serious nerdery. But it was worth it because my god, its beautiful and haunting and ethereal and amazing. The video was shot on 35 mm film, using a home made rig of hundreds of pin hole cameras. The technique behind it is nuts and extremely risky but it worked.

Everyone is going nuts for it so far, and I'm so proud of him. 

You can also see a 'making of' too about how they did it. 

LONDON GRAMMAR - Wasting My Young Years - Behind The Scenes

from Academy Plus (A+) on Vimeo.

I love the track too.

Happy Friday cherries! Have a lovely weekend. We'll be continuing our 'holiday at home', as we all recover from the last few weeks and spend some proper time together. We've been playing with Frankie and her new red ball (best £1 I ever spent), cooking delicious food, baking, and going on some long walks. We're hoping to do some fun stuff in town in the next few days too. Its been lovely to be a trio again.