I live 15 minutes away from quite an exclusive area. Before you get any ideas, I live in the poor part. But it is nice to rub shoulders with the posh wankers to see what could have happened to us if we had sprung from the loins of a middle class gent. (Don’t have a chip on my shoulder at all). Anyway just to give you an idea, the town is a picturesque scene of tudor style (and a bit of mock tudor, georgian etc), ‘I saw you coming’ shops, Range Rover sports, agas, labradors and more private schools than you can shake a lacrosse stick at. Its also very handy should you need to pop into ‘town’. (Posh people’s slang for London).
A lot of workforce from the Met live in this area so they can earn the big salaries plus the London weighting but can escape the bad streets and apartheid like education system at evenings and weekends.
My Mum and I had a mooch around the shops today. My 10 month old is already a dab hand at shopping and is quite happy pontificating over bracelets and matching handbags while strapped in his buggy sucking furiously on dummy. It had been a very unsatisfying shopping excursion due to the astronomical prices. I pick up a barely there bracelet £20. Those boots look nice (£110). Oh, well what about those? (£90) slightly better but not much. “Would you like to try those on?” I glance up and towering above me is a very tall, very slim and slightly scrawny, brunette version of Joanna Lumley with eyebrows plucked almost to oblivion and a Princess Diana accent. “No thanks I’m just browsing (or dreaming)”. My Mum and I scuttle off to another area of the shop keen to discover the sale rail. We admire the cashmere jumpers instead and start caressing them wistfully. “They are lovely aren’t they?” says brunette Lumley “particularly with the lace trim, fantastic for layering” (like I could afford to buy something else to go with the top after spending £60 alone on a skimpy little sweater). Thankfully my baby boy distracts her, “Oh isn’t he a dear little thing?” she coos. I would love to know how these people justify such astronomical prices – what exactly is their mark-up? You can tell it is of better quality than Tescos but really? Even if I had the money I don’t think I could bring myself to spend the best part of a £1000 on a couple of tops and jeans. Its just obscene.
As we leave the shop we cross the road to the Cancer Research shop. As soon as we are through the door, my eyes alight upon 2 tops by Whistles, a skirt complete with tags from White Stuff and a couple of other tops and cardigans – my Mum kindly bought them for me, the total? £30. I could almost make out brunette Lumley uttering ‘cheap-skates’ under her breath as she saw us emerge from the shop with a bulging bag. But you have got to be a mug to spend a fortune on clothes. My recommendation? Take a journey to the nearest town where most toffs tend to congregate and then rifle through their cast-offs in the charity shops. Its a whole new boutique shopping experience. plus helps a few other people too in the process.
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