There's basically no such thing as summer in England. The weather is more indecisive than I am when faced with a variety of greek-inspired tapas (OM NOM NOM stuffedvineleavesandhomousandfalafel nom nom). I can't deal with all this grey-but-warm/sunny-but-breezy behaviour. Hot or cold, please. Having dealt with the sweatfest that comes from 35 degree temperatures in Venice, Prague and Berlin, I'd be happy with a little taste of winter right now. Of course, all this pondering (some might call it complaining, but I prefer pondering) got me considering my winter coat situation. Being ridiculously poor following my travelling trip, I have no chance of affording anything of any warmth-giving quality. But if I did...
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Photos: jakandjill.com, streetpepper.com, stillinberlin.blogspot.com
I really want a camel wool coat. LIKE THAT TOP ONE. ughghghghg money money. I spent it all today on silly £1 prints of da vinci paintings at spitalfields and this beautiful silk crop tee. I already regret it. Silk is no fabric for a British summer.
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