coverage posts

On The Move: London for LCM Part II.

January 9, 2014

As I’m writing this, I’ve just discovered I have only about a fifth of a bottle of water to last me a 6 hour 30 coach journey, so I’ll apologise in advance, lest I start sounding like a whiny bitch at all. Also, forgive the slightly too literal 90s goth vibe I’ve got going on above – I just can’t shake that choker… It’s all over: four crazy days of London living, and now I’m back on the ol’faithful Megabus lamenting the five-month waste of life that my degree currently feels like: can’t I just move to London now? Please?

There are many things about London that are just right up my street:

  • Everyone keeps themselves to themselves, and it’s pretty kosher to storm around the city wearing mental clothes, huge headphones and a natural scowl.
  • There’s so much shit going on: I love the feeling of being interconnected with creative processes actually happening – I wouldn’t survive five minutes in the sticks.
  • Nobody asks questions when you cheesily go into McDonalds after working all day to ask for just salt (emergency piercing cleaning materials, but he didn’t need to know that). “Would you like anything with that?” “Uh no, cheers – s’laters” *scarpers*

There are many things about London that make me want to set fire to people:

  • Carrying a suitcase. On the Underground. With a camera bag, a backpack and a shopping bag: it really ought to be illegal. I’m sorry if I ran over your foot. But if you’re one of the nobs who point-blank refused to say ‘thanks’ for me holding the door open, I hope you lost a toe to gangrene.
  • The try-hard fashionistas. You wouldn’t believe the amount of people I saw wearing absolutely bonafide outfits, until you looked up and saw they were wearing something akin to a birdcage on their head. Mate, I know you want to get street-snapped, but come on now – you look like Dame Edna.
  • Drunk coach-dwellers. Had the privilege of spending a two hour coach journey with a drunk old man and his equally drunk daughter behind me. Cackling. My distaste peaked when he leered “Oh hello, what’s yer name?” as I fought my way back down the aisle after chancing a wee on the motorway. Charmed.
My new favourite eatery - Hummus Bros - I lived off this mushroom/houmous mix and Wagamamas.

My new favourite eatery – Hummus Bros – I lived off this mushroom/houmous mix and Wagamamas.

One of the few show shots I actually caught - Agi & Sam A/W14.

One of the few show shots I actually caught – Agi & Sam A/W14.

Patisserie Valerie cakes that my Vegan self wanted but couldn't have.

Patisserie Valerie cakes that my Vegan self wanted but couldn’t have.

Day 3 was the end of my brain.

The best news about this week is the fact that I’ve been asked by WJ London to return to cover London Fashion Week with them.

Catch my LCM articles for WJ London here.

 


Ebony. 25. Manchester.
Marketing Manager who likes to mouth off on here about stuff she cares about. Expect mental health, Borderline Personality Disorder, and reviews - from restaurants, to books, to fashion. Talks to cats more than people, but seemingly has a lot to say.
ebonylaurenn@gmail.com