Luckily for both of us, I was wrong.
She wasn't entirely a Sloanie, nor a wanker/sod/etc. Surprisingly, she was quite lovely, albeit slightly scatterbrained - with a facial structure that reminded me of Bette Midler, strangely enough - and a penchant for jetting off every weekend to somewhere exotic, such as Antwerp, with her boyfriend. (Note re: boyfriend - when I first saw him, I thought he was her father, or something similar.)
I did my inventory check and noted that two pots had rusted considerably, and that I was missing a bath mat. Noting this on the inventory, I left it in the hallway for her to pick up. That was the day that we had done the mini-break to Oxford, Stratford and the Cotswolds. Upon returning late that same night, I discovered two brand-new pots from Habitat with translucent sky-blue lids (very colour-coordinated) as well as a blue bath mat that felt like little anemones under your feet (minus the stinging), a welcome card, and a small box of chocolates. Goodies, how lovely!
I'm currently having an early afternoon tea - bad habits start here in England I suppose. Clotted cream is delicious, but I have just discovered that every 100g contains over 60g of pure fat. Disturbing.
(*Sloanie: Term to describe resident of posh Sloane Square area, often characterised by stuffy accent, latest shade of society-blonde hair, buttery highlights, pearl necklaces, Mont Blanc pens. Frequents Harrods and Harvey Nichols; has lifestyle clearly not of any ordinary mortal being.)
L'Esthete @ 14:42
