HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY... TO ME!

I am starting to get a bit confused by all the depression surrounding 14th February.  Without sounding like a hypocrite, as yes I will be enjoying a dinner out with my boyfriend tonight, I feel like my lonnnnnng years in Singledom have given me enough experience to speak with authority on this subject.  In fact, one of my all time favourite Valentine’s Days to date was an evening in university, when three of my best girls happened to have been irate with their partners and so we all piled into my bestie’s dorm room and spent the evening gorging on chocolate and Colin Firth movies.  Perfect.

So where am I going with this, I hear you ask?  Well, in a world where psychoanalysts are constantly telling us that a Positive Mental Attitude is paramount to happiness, I begin to believe that the solution to the Valentine's Day Blues is incredibly simple: make yourself look forward to it.  Now don’t get me wrong, this is not some sort of feminist tirade and if a cute guy asks you out for a fancy shmancy meal of course you say “yes, please, what time?”  But if you happen to be between boyfriends then turn this contentious date into a date with yourself!  And it’s not just the singles.  Surely there are any number of civilian WAGS whose other halves are doctors/firemen/military who must settle for a brief Valentine Skype chat?  

So here comes February 14th and the house is empty.  Firstly, light that posh candle which you have never found an excuse to burn and put it in a prominent spot in your home (relaxing ambience, check!)  Then treat yourself to your favourite dinner, the one that nobody else understands and so you never have a chance to make it (mine is scrambled egg and chips); then pick up the book you have been meaning to read for months and/or watch a guilty pleasure chick-flick that you really should be way too old/jaded/sober for and indulge.  What about that bottle of champagne/prosecco/strange-looking-Caribbean-type liqueur that has been gathering dust under the stairs?  Give it a go!  I’m a sucker for a bubble bath, so I would definitely need to schedule in one of those.  And before you know it it’s midnight and you and your inner Goddess are back in sync while all the other girlfriends of the world are having to stroke their partner’s egos just because they stepped up to the plate on the right day (when reeeeally they should be showering us with flowers and slap-up meals for the other 364 days of the year too.)

As always, these are just guidelines and not just for singles and absentee girlfriends.  We all know that the shops and restaurants double their price tags on this one day in mid February, so why not give your boyfriend permission to do Valentine’s Day another night?  Or two… All in all, I think it is perhaps too easy to succumb to the negativity which seems to be snow-balling year by year.  But in reality, as with most things, Valentine’s Day is in the eye of the beholder.  So enjoy!

THE THING ABOUT JANUARY

So here’s the thing:  January gets a lot of stick.  No two ways about it.  It doesn’t help that it has to follow Christmas, and then New Year.  Plus most of us are strapped for cash and carrying a little (a lot) of what my best friend calls ‘holiday weight.’  But most of all, there just isn’t anything to look forward to.  February has Valentine’s day which, love it or hate it, is at least a smiley/sad face on the calendar.  March, April and May shotgun Mother’s Day and Easter while by June (if the British seasons are behaving themselves) we are all so jacked up on vitamin D and patchy pinkish tan lines that we can handle anything.  September is still filled with barbeques and last minute Easyjet tickets, October grabs Halloween and then the fireworks are rounded up for November.  And then comes Christmas. Glorious, pleasure-filled, decadent Christmas.  Sigh…

January is derived from the Latin for ‘door.’  Most appropriate what with it being the door to a new year and all.  However, if Christmas is a magnificent garland-draped portal strewn with flashing lights and bursting with trees and presents, then January is the shabby backdoor cousin letting in the draft.  It is no wonder that none of us are eager to go through that battered excuse for a door, while all that is waiting for us are tight clothes, relative poverty and nothing to soften the blow of returning to the monotony of work.  We all feed off each other’s lethargy.  If anyone so much as mentions the dreaded term ‘Christmas blues,’ our shoulders drop and all leftover glitter becomes a rash-inducing irritant.  

So what is to be done?  First of all, don’t join a gym.  This will only lead to an unnecessary snowball of depression at the end of January when you realise you have paid £100 for what was essentially one gym session and 3 sauna sweats over the space of a week.  If you want to exercise then go for a walk. Your bank account will not recriminate you at the end of every month for the rest of the year if you stop walking.  Ditching the excess choccies (or eating them all in one sitting to get them out of the house) and lowering the daily alcohol intake provoked by festive cheer will immediately improve your waistline.  Then cut some carbs, ditch the morning tea break treat and you’ll be back to resembling yourself more than good old St.Nick.  

Now you are not dreading the results of festive plumping, it is time to cultivate the barren wasteland of your events calendar.  If your friends and family are selfish enough not to provide you with birthdays and anniversaries as an excuse to dress up, step up and take responsibility for your own social proliferation.  Start a book club!  It is a great way to kick the guys out and share an evening every fortnight with your favourite girls over wine and nibbles (I would say every week but for said waistline concerns.)  You will soon discover that the actual book discussions take a back seat (and I mean a bus back seat) to gossip and general merriment.  

Get your nearest and dearest involved in your improve-your-mood mission as the Christmas blues epidemic can spread if not vaccinated with smiles and positive thoughts.  Hippies aren’t completely full of nonsense when they preach about healthy spirits leading to healthy minds.  Scientists have proven that the act of smiling releases endorphins which make you happy.  So do it anyway!  Do not allow post-Christmas lethargy to infect your social circle and make a conscious decision to dispel negativity by arming yourself with smiles.

The door of January might not be as overtly camp-tastic as it’s Christmas cousin, but don’t be afraid to grasp the handle and happily stride through to next year.  After all, the number ‘one’ has plenty of positive connotations as well.  I once saw a news report about a young lad who had taken his parents’ garden shed and turned it into an insanely opulent den for himself.  I’m talking crystal chandeliers, velvet upholstery, marble fountain, the works.  Although I’m sure this would be an effective metaphorical microcosm for any number of life lessons, my point is that he left the exterior completely bare.  He felt that the interior was rendered all the more impressive because it was so unexpected in relation to the battered, splinter-riddled nature of it’s threshold.  The door of January might look unimpressive, but who knows what lies on the other side…?

5 JANUARY SILVER LININGS

I am a positive person.  Mostly.  Some might say annoyingly so.  For instance, when I want to lose weight I turn it into a competition with myself, app and all; when I want to save money I get enervated and begin religiously checking my bank balance every payday.  I just love that zing of achievement!  Therefore, I decided to put a happy spin on some common New Year grumbles for all you pessimists out there.

1. “I’m broke.”  Well of course you are!  And do you know why?  Because you have lots of friends and family on whom you could not resist showering Christmas gifts.  For a few weeks you will be feeling the fiscal pinch, but think of that smile which you put on a brother’s/sister’s/parent’s/granny’s face!  Priceless.
2. “There are no more lovely presents to look forward to.”  Well yes but what about actually using all the items you received for Christmas?  Surely your feet are far warmer than they were a month ago will all the socks you received from less imaginative relatives?  For me January is a time to indulge in gallons and tons of the fancy make-up and perfume I requested.  Not to mention DVD’s, CD’s and redeemed gift vouchers with which I can pleasantly fill my evenings.
3. “The weather is rubbish.”  It is an inescapable fact that Winter in the UK leans more towards wet and windy than magical snowfalls.  However, for every storm that batters our coastline and hairlines alike, we are one step closer to Spring.
4. “I’m looking a bit festively plump.”  I blame the lethal combination of my Dad’s cooking and Thornton’s chocolates for the unwanted poundage.  But as I just read in another blog, there are sooooooo many things which taste better than skinny feels!
5. “It will be at least nine months until I can realistically whack out my Christmas jumper again.”  My family have solved this by celebrating everything.  Last year we had a huge Independence Day BBQ… even though we’re British.  Same goes for Thanksgiving, both of the Queen’s Birthdays, The Equinox, St David’s Day, every Sunday… You get the idea.

January will never be my favourite month.  However, this means that it has absolutely no expectational pressure placed upon it’s underrated shoulders and therefore every impromptu bout of fun time is a bonus, and all the more enjoyable because of it.  So cheer up and find those January silver linings, people!  (And if you don’t spot any, it’ll be February before you know it.)

THE THING ABOUT CANDLES

As is my wont on a dismal January evening, I am doing my best impression of a couch potato, waiting for an acceptable time to go to bed.  As it happens I was in this exact spot, reading the same soppy novel, wearing the same comfy PJs and sipping the same brand of tea last night.  So then why do I feel so much more relaxed than 24 hours ago???

Have I had a stress-free day?  Not particularly.  Is my sofa suddenly comfier?  Nope, that’s not it either.  Am I in a wine induced stupor?  Not today.  And then I look down towards the one addition to my therapeutic scene of slouchy solitude: a ‘Winter’ candle from that holy grail of chic, minimalist comfort, The White Company.

Can it be that my entire mood can be attributed to a little pot of wax?  As I watch the flame gently flicker and inhale the delicious fragrance, evocative of all things warm and snuggly, I can feel my heartbeat slowing and my shoulders haemorrhaging their tension into the sofa.  More than ever I can understand why a product which has been essentially rendered redundant by the invention of electricity, remains the driving force behind a multi-billion pound industry.     

You see it is the simple, affordable luxury of it all.  With one strike of a match, the atmosphere of a room is given a flattering makeover from everyday to soft and romantic.  In a human, such an effective transformation usually requires hours of preparation and liberal application of expensive cosmetics!  

They say that our sense of smell is the first to develop, a fact which those clever people in creative labs the world over have cottoned on to.  In most gift shops you can purchase a candle claiming to contain the essence of memories, from children’s sweet shops to holidays by the sea.  The candle in front of me has somehow managed to succeed in recreating the sense and scent of an entire season!

I have therefore added to my new year’s resolution list with some points of candle etiquette.  No longer will I allow these wonderful things which have survived the harsh evolution of technology to be relegated to bathroom and bedroom draws after one use.  I will make a concerted effort give each the burning time it deserves and bask in it’s remedial glow.  I anticipate an extremely chilled out 2015… no pressure to all you chandlers out there!

5 TIPS FOR A FAB NEW YEAR'S EVE (without breaking the bank)

1. Don’t overspend on venue.  A party in a swanky hotel has its benefits, but all that glam can come at a pretty hefty price and with it the expectation and pressure on the evening to be ‘worth it’ can sky rocket to unrealistic proportions.  My best New Year’s parties have always been low-key and homey.  That way you concentrate on the fun rather than the cost!
2. Keep it local.  If you are like me and are lucky enough to live close to many of your friends, staying home is always preferable to long, arduous journeys on unreliable, drunk-infested modes of public transport.  Once again everyone saves money and energy so friends and family turn up at your door looking fresh and excited rather than grimy and demoralised.
3. Choose a culinary theme and get everyone involved.  This year we are having a curry competition with our extended family (which is luckily overflowing with talented amateur chefs.)  This way we are guaranteed an exciting menu with a festive side of good natured competition.
4. Start the evening a little later than your average dinner party.  An 8/9 o’clock vague kick off time will allow guests to prep at a leisurely pace, thus ensuring stress levels are set to minimum and also saves the party from dragging before that all important stroke of midnight.
5. Keep an open mind.  New Year’s Eve can often be met with anything from indifference to terror, particularly with singletons stressing over being thought of as 3rd/5th/7th… wheels at kiss o’clock.  Whether you have a guaranteed smooching partner or not, the turn of the year should be approached with a positive attitude.  New beginnings and clean slates are always healthy, even for the most content of folk. So cast aside all residual Yuletide anxiety, crack open the bubbly and get ready for (possibly) your best year yet!

Happy New Year Everyone!

THE THING ABOUT CHRISTMAS... IS IT ALL ABOUT THE PRESENTS???

When Jo grumbles “Christmas won’t be the same without any presents” in Little Women... she was right.  Now I know that statement is going to raise a few hackles but hear me out...

Despite a prevalence of Christmas cheer and goodwill, you never have to look too far for that Scrooge-like demographic who are always eager to moan about the evils of commercialisation and the fact that tinsel is tying a proverbial noose around the true Christmas message.  However, I believe that these preachy proponents of appropriate festive focus are so busy disparaging Christmas consumerism that they miss the reasons behind it.

Every year my Christmas present journey begins some time in late November when I start trawling the internet and department stores for gift inspiration.  I have a lot of family and even more friends, all of whom I care for deeply.  One of my greatest pleasures in life is bringing a genuine smile to the faces of said loved ones and for me, that is where the true value of Christmas presents lies.  It is not about the amount of money you spend on someone or the designer labels emblazoned on the box.  It truly is the thought that counts.

Yes, of course it is important to teach our younger generation the Nativity story and part of me glows that little bit brighter when I see all the mini wise men, angels and shepherds running around after their acting debuts.  However, no matter what religion you subscribe to, surely the underlying message of love and generosity are consistently appropriate across the board?  

So I say buy your presents people!  Wrap up each perfect little something for someone special, guilt-free in the knowledge that the true meaning of Christmas may not be found on a price tag but there can never be anything evil or blasphemous about a beautifully wrapped symbol of affection.

TOP 10 TIPS FOR DECORATING YOUR TREE

My place of work does Christmas in a big way… and by big I mean huge.  No seriously, I suspect that Lapland has nothing on us.  It is my job to assist the extremely talented visual merchandisers in turning their artistic visions into a reality, from buying the first decoration in January right through to placing the final star on the last Christmas display tree some time in November.  As such, I have compiled a few tips over the years for recreating these festive works of art in the more humble setting of my own home and without breaking the bank...  

1. Tree decorating is a treat not a chore, so gather some friends, crack open a bottle of wine and get NOW That’s What I Call Christmas in your stereo.  Enjoy it!
2. Choose a theme…and stick to it.  Every family has a box of wonky angels made of toilet rolls and Papier-mâché stars.  Why not have a separate little tree for these works of ahem… art to be enjoyed in the kitchen or hall?  Meanwhile your main tree can be a beautiful champagne gold or frosted blue or Scandinavian red and white or…
3. Beware of false economy!  Invest in your tree, be it real or artificial.  Stay away from cheapy, sparse pieces of green plastic masquerading as Christmas trees or that sad looking real tree which has been discounted to within an inch of its life because somewhere along it’s retail journey it has lost most of it’s branches.  This is particularly true for artificial trees.  A quality 7 footer can usually cost anything between £100 and £300 but will last for decades.  The better the tree, the less decorations are needed to fill in gaps between the branches and will therefore save you money in the long run.
4. Lights… the more the merrier!  For a classy, tasteful look get yourself at least 600 warm white LEDs and intertwine the wires in and out of the Christmas tree branches to create a comforting glow which will draw all eyes to your beautiful Christmas centrepiece.  If your tastes run more towards a modern look do the same with ice white LEDs.  Your tree will look like it has been sprinkled with magical fairy dust!
5. There is a time and a place for tinsel… and it is not on a Christmas tree.  It is actually a true talent to make tinsel look good so when in doubt leave it to the professionals.  Instead choose delicate crystal garlands and metallic sprays (small leafy branches) which will reflect your lights and create a soft backdrop for individual decorations.  
6. Want to save money?  Put your tree in a corner.  This is a time honoured method of reducing the cost of a tree without sacrificing its quality.  A corner tree needs half as many lights and decorations as one which is in the centre of a room or in a bay window.  
7. Want to save more money?  Mix in some shatterproof decorations.  While low quality garlands and tinsel tend to cheapen the look of a tree, certain low-end baubles can be the perfect way of discreetly filling gaps.  Tubes of plastic baubles in golds, silvers or block colours, when properly placed in non-obvious spots on your tree, are a great money-saver and don’t detract attention from the more expensive decorations.  Each year, you can replace them with nicer decs which catch your eye.
8. Save spots front and centre for your favourite decorations.  Use the individual LEDs to create mini spotlights for your most expensive glass baubles and Gisela Graham fairies and let them steal the show!
9. Don’t forget the base of your tree.  I like to use some leftover wrapping paper from the previous year to make some fake presents so that my tree doesn’t look like it is just sat there waiting for Christmas day.  Also look out for light-up presents which give off a subtle, whimsical glow and are the perfect way of masking unsightly base stands.
10. Decorate your tree as soon as is acceptably possible.   The longer you leave it the more likely it is that the task will become a chore in your mind rather than something to delight in and brighten up those long winter nights.  

I hope these tips have helped.  Happy decorating everyone...

THE THING ABOUT RUGBY

Picture this:  A wave of 74,000 people flowing towards a sporting monolith, vibrating with anticipation for the battle to come.  I am in the middle of this human sea, snuggled into my duffel coat and red and green scarf, clinging to my Dad’s arm as we excitedly absorb the sights and smells of one of our favourite places on the planet.  It is central Cardiff, and Wales are about to take on England in the final game of the Six Nations 2013.

This was one of the best days of my life.  Every year, my Dad and I make the five hour journey to our country’s capital to be a part of sporting history and, win or lose, there is never a dull moment.  But what makes it so special?

The Setting?  In my more whimsical moments I like to think of the national stadium as an architectural version of the dragon on our flag, from the roar that emanates from the bowels of the building during game time, to the fire-breathing flame-throwers on the pitch as the players line up for battle.  In our modern day colosseum, the brave Welsh gladiators take on the English lions, only with less death...hopefully.

The Game?  A good game of rugby can be fast-paced, adrenaline fuelled and awe inspiring.  It takes baffling levels of skill as well as strength and determination to win and The Six Nations tournament ensures five of the best opposition in the Northern Hemisphere.

The People?  When I was a teenager, my Dad took me to Old Trafford to watch a Premiership football game and I really enjoyed myself.  But the memory is blurry at best.  However, my first international rugby game often runs through my mind in vivid detail.  Time for a rather sweeping generalisation: rugby supporters are nicer than their footballing counterparts.  I once saw an interview with a footballer at his first rugby game and he was astonished by the concept of supporters from both England and Wales happily mixing together in the stands and with beer added to the equation as well!  I can only imagine how many police officers would be needed if this were the case for a football meet.

The Men?  Real men who, while footballers are diving and rolling around on the floor because someone almost tapped their ankle, are being dragged off to the blood bin by their physios to sew their ears back on.  I am not ashamed to admit this: since I first saw Jonny Wilkinson taking a penalty kick, my perspective of the opposite sex altered irrevocably.  From then on my head has more often been turned by beards and brawn rather than skinheads and tattoos.  But that’s another blog…

They say that rugby is a thug’s game played by gentlemen, but I say it is a thug’s game supported by gentlemen (and gentle-ladies) as well.  My favourite memory, aside from Wales winning the 2013 game against the English, was in an Italian restaurant during the 2012 tournament.  Unprecedented sub zero temperatures had frozen the Stade de France and disappointed French and Irish supporters had hopped on the Eurostar to join in with the Cardiff festivities, where Wales were playing Scotland.  After the game, a few of us found ourselves in an Italian restaurant.  During our meal, a French contingent struck up a resounding rendition of the Marseillaise.  The table behind us immediately stood up and joined in, as did three tables of Frenchmen upstairs.  Meanwhile, Italian, Irish, Scottish and Welsh rugby fans energetically applauded and there was an almost tangible atmosphere of international camaraderie in the room.  In a world where the news is overwhelmed by accounts of violent discord between nations, I count myself very lucky to have been present at such a poignantly integrative moment.

STILL FEELING THE AUTUMN LOVE

Really feeling the Autumn love at the moment.  Had some gorgeous dinners, weekend breaks, parties and extremely successful shopping trips with lots more still to come.  And with the John Lewis advert successfully bringing tears to Brits left, right and centre (yet again), Christmas is definitely in the air.  Holidays are coming...

MY TOP 5 FAVOURITE THINGS ABOUT AUTUMN... all rolled into one.

Sometimes I can’t help feeling a little bit sorry for Autumn.  Think about it:  Spring is associated with frolicking lambs and buds bursting into bloom; Summer evokes images of sun-drenched beaches and a jug of Pimms in the garden; and everyone knows that Winter is a time for log fires and Christmas trees.  Meanwhile, poor old Autumn is essentially about leaves dying and the weather turning damp and dismal.

However, never have I been more appreciative of this underrated season than I was last night, when all my favourite Autumnal activities rolled into one, magical evening.

1. Snuggly Autumn Fashion.  Immediately upon stumbling out of the cold and into my house after work last night, I ran up to my bedroom and chose my outfit for the evening.  Bring on layers upon layers of soft cream cable-knit, woolly socks, a mile-long tartan scarf, a cute little cream beret and even a pair of woollen mittens.  I was ready…
2. Bonfire Night.  Remember, remember the 5th of November… when thousands of my fellow Brits head to various fields to enjoy gigantic bonfires and incredible fireworks.  My family, friends and I trundled along to a local school and were suitably awed by potentially the greatest ever Chinese invention.  The cute firemen in attendance didn’t hurt the ambience either.
3. Comfort Food.  With darkness rolling in earlier each evening, Autumn is a more forgiving season for indulging in a few culinary naughties.  Cue jumbo hot dog resting on a bed of fried onions and lovingly nestled within a fluffy bap.  Complete with ketchup and mustard and you’re good to go.  The 5 star hygiene rating of the fast food vender somehow made it taste even better!
4. Red Wine.  Gone are the endless Summer evenings where you can happily while away the hours of sun in a beer garden with your friends, nursing an ice cold glass of sauvignon blanc.  Now it is time to grab a cork screw and enjoy the warming effects of a good, quality red.
5. Family Time.  Said glass of red wine was served at a gem of a cosy country pub in the stix of North Wales.  With my Dad, brother and landlord providing both the booze and conversation, I did not want my Autumn night to end.

MAC PLUMFUL REVIEW

Part of me can completely relate to the addictive euphoria inherent in using a brand new Chanel mascara or Lancome eye-liner for the first time and feeling the need to rush to my laptop to review it.  However, I am a huge advocate of ‘empty reviews.’  

I read my first empty review on Jessicachri, by Jessica Rivers, and thought it was a genius concept.  It is easy to be dazzled by a new beauty product the first few times you use it, but in order to give a true test of everyday value the empty review is surely the answer?  As I am rapidly coming to the end of my most treasured cosmetic, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to dip a proverbial toe into the world of beauty blogging and what better way to start than with the darling of my make up collection: Mac’s Plumful lipstick.

Now that Autumn colours are once again taking over my wardrobe, I spend most of my days in rich, berry hues.  With all these deep tones going on, it would be so easy just to stick to a nude lip colour and let the outfit do the talking, but the thing I love about Plumful is its versatility.  A dab on the lips at the beginning of the day subtly glams up my work attire for hours and then the full application shebang (prime, lip line, apply, blot, apply… you know the drill) goes with every evening outfit I can throw at it.  Whether it be an LBD or skirt and top combo, this lipstick is the perfect finish to my Autumn outfits.   Some dark lip colours can make me look washed out, but not Plumful.  It is very forgiving when I have not managed to find the time to top up my tan, as it somehow turns my complexion from ‘pasty’ to ‘alabaster,’ (don’t ask me how, it just does.)  

So do yourself a favour this Autumn/Winter and add this cosmetic gem to your collection, you won’t regret it.

Fashion versus Style

Just a comforting sentiment for all my fellow 'normals' out there, for whom the closest shot at walking a runway is probably a Staff Only door at Heathrow Airport...

THE THING ABOUT TEA

So here’s the thing: last Christmas I received a beautiful hand-stitched cushion which read ‘Tea is liquid wisdom.’  This got me thinking about the magical properties of my most adored hot beverage.  Think about it, the kettle is the first port of call when you get a visitor.  It breaks the ice, makes you feel like a splendid host/hostess by giving you an excuse to use your best mugs (or tea set if you are really keen) and sets everybody at ease by giving you something to do with your hands after the obligatory hug or handshake is out of the way.  Similarly it helps regulate temperature, providing warmth in the winter and quenching thirst in the summer (although I am certainly not one for this insane American tendency to serve it with ice.)  It is also an excellent comforter in times of need; a physical offering of support and understanding in stressful situations.  Not to mention all the health benefits, what with herbal teas being integral to any self-respecting detox campaign these days (not that I’d know.)  Tea is an essential part of my day and I wanted to dedicate a little time to describing my favourite source of this liquid wisdom.

I am currently sitting in a medium-sized room, in a medium-sized building which shares roughly the same symbolism for me as Buckingham Palace does for the Queen:  Betty’s Tea Rooms, Harrogate.  It is my spiritual home, my meal-time Mecca, my most adored haunt for a tea treat and it is my view that everybody should share in this particular cup of liquid wisdom.  For the tea obsessed, this hundred year old institution is so much more than a cafe/restaurant.  It is here that one can come and enjoy the sensation of being brewed in a unique blend of Victorian England meets Swiss hospitality, warmed by the ever present china-tinkling echoes of the past.  The upstairs houses a gloriously bright, Victorian-chic cafe, with flawless bay windows providing irresistible glimpses of the confectionary bar inside.  Meanwhile, the downstairs tearooms are a cosy cornucopia of thick carpets, marble tables and intriguing Swiss wooden artwork cladding the walls.  A magnificent collection of bespoke teapots, varying from porcelain houses to famous figures of the past (who all happen to conveniently possess striking enough noses to encompass a spout in the design,) tastefully line the walls, giving every attendee the impression of each cup served being, literally, steeped in history.

Whilst their tea room blend and English breakfast are some of the best brews I’ve tasted, the delicious delicacies served beside these pots of tea-time gold become a talking point long after the last croissant flake and scone crumb have left the pristine plates.  Their eggs benedict, traditional gruyere rostis and ceasar salad are of particular note but I have never known any dish to be remotely disappointing.  Evening meals are often accompanied by a pianist and a recommended ice cold glass of refreshing Swiss white wine, the perfect way to wind down after a busy business day or shopping jaunt in the charming local stores.  Their service is also impeccable.  Staff are dressed in slightly modernized Downton Abbey-esque maid uniforms and maintain an air of pleasant competence, seemingly dedicated to making your dining experience as relaxed and resplendent as possible.  Any Austen or Bronte buff would relish the opportunity to slip back in time and enjoy that which we had in common with our regency heroines, for it takes very little imagination to imagine Mrs.Bennett sipping from one of the delicate china tea services, or enjoying a freshly baked scone from the solid silver cake stands.

On your way out you are drawn into the warm confines of the gift shop.  This is the final cube of sugar in the perfect cup of tea.  More ‘maids’ await your pastry pleasure behind a worn wooden counter above glass cabinets housing a dream of fondant fancies, brownies, cupcakes, scones, cookies, macaroons… you get the idea.  However, the piece de resistance preens in the shop window in the form of a wedding cake display to make even the coldest matrimonial feet turn warm and toastie with mouthwatering anticipation.  No joke, I would probably tie the knot just for an excuse to dig into one of these culinary works of art!  The tins and boxes along the back wall bring us full circle to a veritable library of tea tisanes, tonics, leaves and infusions, presented in traditional caddies with Betty’s artwork adorning the facades.  

Stepping out under the black iron Victorian awning, I take a deep breath of crisp October air and snuggle further into my duffle coat, enjoying the residual Betty’s-infused warmth which will remain with me for the rest of the day.  Tea might not have actual magical properties, but every sip can provide health, warmth and comfort.  Sounds pretty magical to me...

10 THINGS WHICH DRIVE ME IRRATIONALLY CRAZY

Google Images: Tom and Jerry

You know when you get a paper cut and at the time it feels like the absolute worst pain imaginable?  Sometimes, I will be overcome by a wave of seething anger at what I like to call a 'first world problem.'  That is to say something that in the grand scheme of things is not actually that bad but nevertheless causes unheard of levels of fury for several seconds when it occurs.  Here are 10 of my triggers of irrational rage:

1. When tweezing and that one, tenacious little hair refuses to be plucked no matter how close you get to the mirror.
2. When your phone battery inexplicably jumps from half charged to 10% in five minutes.
3. When my boyfriend comes to my house to ‘spend time with me’ then immediately steals the remote and puts football on.
4. When you treat yourself to a bottle of wine only to find your Dad/Brother/Sister has quaffed it.
5. Liquid eyeliner smudges.
6. Finding empty packets of biscuits in the cupboard.
7. When my cat decides to scratch on my bedroom door in the middle of my new relaxation app.
8. When you run a bath only to find out the hot water ran out midway.
9. Unwanted predictive text amendments.
10. My alarm clock.

THE THING ABOUT TERMS OF ENDEARMENT

Anyone who has ever spent more than five minutes in my company or read my blog might have sussed out a rather strange dichotomy in my personality.  After much reflection I have coined an appropriate term for this paradox: cynical romantic.  So what is a cynical romantic?

Well, on the one hand my childhood and teens were so saturated in Disney, novels and romcoms that I had a pretty adamant belief that, at some convenient time in the not so distant future, I would stumble across my Prince Charming. Now that is not to say I was completely deluded.  For one thing I don’t attend nearly enough polo matches or Ascot meets for the whole white stallion thing to be likely and real life princes are nowhere near as prolific as they are in cartoon films.  But there was definitely a Versace suit and some moonlight involved in my daydreams and come to think of it the guy did hold a remarkable resemblance to Eric from The Little Mermaid… but I digress.

So imagine my surprise when I fiiiiinally landed an actual boyfriend and he brought me a bouquet of flowers, just because.  And what was my response to this wonderful gesture?  I laughed and cracked a joke about wondering who he had cheated on me with to warrant such lovely flowers in order to dispel the romantic atmosphere.  After that it became clear that although I was more than comfortable with copious amounts of romance in literature and on film, when it came to reality… not so much.  

Therefore, I approach the concept of pet names between couples with conflicting sentiments.  When I come across cute old people who have been married for hundreds of years calling each other ‘Sweetheart’ and ‘Dearest,’ it fills me with a snuggly warmth as if I’m watching teacups and candlesticks dance around an enchanted ballroom.  However, at the same time the idea of my boyfriend of four years calling me ‘Honey,’ or, heaven forbid, ‘Darling,’ makes me feel… stressed is probably the most apt word for it.  You see?  Romantic cynic.

This leads me to a warning for all my fellow romantic cynics out there, inspired by observing some of my friends.  I once read a book in which the heroine described an immensely awkward conversation with her soon-to-be ex boyfriend about how he wanted to start calling her ‘Honey’ and he wanted her to call him ‘Darling.’  Her sheer panic at such a request was worryingly familiar but it made me think of the couples in my general vicinity.  A friend’s boyfriend calls her ‘Angel,’ in a tone which is always dripping with so much sarcasm as to make it acceptable to us romantic cynics.  And yet, is it my imagination or is there a pinch less sarcasm in his voice every time I hear it?  The same goes for another of my friends who married her childhood sweetheart and early on they began to call each other ‘Babes.’  Ten years later I often hear them refer to each other in this manner, only now it is without an ounce of irony.  Is this how it started with our parents?  Does the foundation of the dreaded term of endearment lie in repetition?

A while back my own boyfriend began to finish his goodnight texts with ‘Night, Dearest,’ finding perverse enjoyment in my real-life romantic squeamishness, and yes, you guessed it, each time I read it I become a little more inured to the concept of a term of endearment.

What is the most sickeningly sweet term of endearment you have come across?

SO APPROPRIATE...

The world's most apt Birthday present...

THE THING ABOUT MY BIRTHDAY

So here’s the thing… I skipped a year at school.  No, no don’t get too excited, I’m not some sort of child prodigy who was in need of more intellectual stimulation than my age group could provide, I actually just wanted to move schools when I was five and it was decided that the measly 20 days left of September until my sixth birthday were not enough to warrant a whole extra year of school fees. So when all is said and done, I pretty much missed a year of colouring-in and hop-scotch.

Although my colouring skills have always been slightly below par, there have been many benefits to being the youngest person in my school and University year group and my favourite side effect has been the fact that I am probably the only person on the planet over the age of eighteen who enjoys getting older.  When every single one of my friends goes through and overcomes the progressively more traumatic experience of adding an extra year to their age, by the time late September comes around the whole aging thing has rather lost it’s depressing edge and I am proverbially (and yes, sometimes literally) rubbing my hands together in greedy anticipation of presents, cake and champagne.  

At the grand old age of 26, this year has been my best birthday yet!  Spanning a total of two and a half weeks, my celebrations have included a girl’s night in, a family feast, a night out in Soho, a champagne picnic in Hyde Park, a surprise Birthday dinner with all my University friends in attendance and a long weekend in Paris!  How my 30th is ever going to live up to this I don’t know...

Thanks must go to my family for what might be the first and only time where they have managed to keep something quiet; all my wonderful friends for taking the time and money to be in the same place at the same time; my two best friends for being so organisationally helpful and of course my lovely boyfriend for making the whole thing possible.