

Don't Mess With My Frou-Frou
A few weeks ago I awoke to several messages from my friend Sarah From The Pub* offering her thoughts on the procession of evening frocks unveiled overnight at the Golden Globes. Admittedly this was the start of awards’ season but since she doesn’t do this usually and I was stuck at home unexpectedly with an ill child, I was thrilled. I settled myself down with a cup of tea and had a scroll through the globe gallery of gorgeousness. I could immediately see why this year’s red


A Winter's Wail
Autumn looks so glamorous in the movies doesn’t it? Couples in cashmere beanies laughing with rosy cheeks as they joyfully kick at the leaves on the ground, mugs of steaming hot chocolate waiting for them at home. Then there’s winter – soft sparkly snow falling neatly on window ledges, children making 6ft tall snowmen with carrots as noses. Hmm… it doesn’t really happen like that does it, certainly not in London anyway. You are likely to end up with dog poo on your snazzy boo