As I edged ever closer to having a zero in my age again, I decided as a birthday treat to venture to London Town for the day to have my hair cut, do some shopping and whatever else took my fancy.
First things first. Loathe as I am to share this with you, many people have asked me why the hell I travel to London to get my haircut when I can get it cut in any number of perfectly nice salons in the Shire. I always reply that it's because it's cheaper and am met with derisive laughter. But wait! It is cheaper. Regardez:
Train to London - £25 if bought enough in advance.
Haircut - £13
Haircut in the Shire - Upwards of £35, averaging at £40-50, though the most I paid was £65.
But seriously, £13 for a haircut? Here's the secret. In Neal's Yard in Covent Garden is a small unassuming place called Hair by Fairy. You don't make an appointment and it's the luck of the draw who cuts your hair (and whether they speak English) but all the stylists are recent graduates of places like the Toni and Guy Academy. Trust me, if you just want a quick cut, go here.
Anyway, part of the pleasure of the day was strolling through Selfridges. Selfridges is possibly one of my favourite shops - don't be fooled by all the wealth wafting around, the staff are as courteous and lovely to me and thee as they are to black Amex holders. And thus I found myself in the best bit.
Shoes. Sweet Heaven on Earth.
I work the Shoes in a clockwise direction. Which means starting with Lanvin and Louboutin - two of the most beautiful words ever to begin with 'L'. I inadvertantly found myself stroking these fine beauties when I was approached by a Professional Blonde who politely asked if I needed any help. I resisted the urge to enlist her help to smuggle all of the preciouses out of the shop and into my bag so I could leg it to St Pancras and catch the train home, cackling maniacally at my daring-do. No, I was restrained and said no and she wafted off, leaving me to loiter by the Louboutins.
Now this may surprise you but I've never actually tried a pair on. I've always felt my feet to be far unworthy of such creations and didn't want to experience the crushing horror that maybe they're just not for me.
Until now. I was approached again by a very lovely chap who saw me fondling a pair and again I was asked if I needed any help.
"Um, no, thank you. I'm just looking," I replied, guiltily putting the shoe back on the shelf and desperately checking I hadn't left any fingermarks. He smiled kindly.
"They are lovely aren't they? Would you like to try them on?" What? He wasn't kind! He was an apprentice of the Devil!
I tried to resist but before I knew it a perfect pink box was thrust into my hands and divine creations adorned my feet. So how was it?
Perfect. No more, no less. I am now completely in lustful love and am scheming a way to get me a pair.....