Londres, le retour...

Posted by Isabel Dexter at 04:08 on 28 May 2009

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Stepping off the Eurostar at King's Cross St Pancras, je suis choquée (I'm shocked) by the chattiness, scruffiness and disregard for convention (like only wearing three colours in an outfit - come on people, keep up!) of English people. Ouais je sais, je suis presque francaise (yeah I'm almost French). More to the point, why is everyone smiling? I have a sudden flashback to San Francisco when every morning buying a coffee I was attacked by vocalised wishes of 'peace and love' sometimes accompanied by the two finger peace sign.

Arriving in Shoreditch in the middle of the evening on bank holiday Monday it was a veritable Patricia Field fest. Think leopard and zebra print worn with Eighties print leggings, lots of frosted pink lipstick, bleach blonde coiffed retro curls, lycra crop tops in peach, neon yellow and black, plus a smattering of ankle bracelets. And that was just the boys. I couldn't believe how loudly people were talking. Plus there was some shimmying in the middle of the road - Beyonce-style, a piggy back race and an inprompto (cat)walk off, before I even reached the chip shop. Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Saint Germain anymore.

Just as you never feel more British than when you realise you're in a country where it's impossible to get cold milk and boiling water for your Earl Grey, I'm suddenly feeling a little bit French. In cafe No-One I realised I was doing The French Face (prolonged stare, slight pout of the lips combined with a judgemental scowl and raised brows) at a perfectly innocent Hoxtonite with glitter on her face. Very Emma Bell s/s09.

When my ex-boyfriend turned up in an Eighties denim waistcoat with orange pumps and cut-off shorts I thought I'd stepped into an accidental Duran Duran moment. A girl with purple hair and a rockabilly pin-up print top regarded my grey Reiss dress and tan sandals with pity. Merde - perhaps I've turned into one of those French women with draws full of identical Hermes scarves and discreet dresses. Tant pis! I can't help myself it's a new religion. 

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