Life in SW3

So this am, v early for self, and practically half way through day for her, I met the mysterious one who never blogs, aka P, to do a SHOP at Sloane Square. This was shopping with a mission, as we had 1hr 45 mins to find me an outfit to wear for a friend's wedding next week. Well, Monsoon is my new best friend. Though I had already bought a skirt in Ted Baker, so now have two posh skirts for this winter - how madly extravagant. P and my's taste in clothes is diametrically opposed. I am basically incapable of wearing anything other than jeans, boots, and oversized jackets, and tops that are 2 years old. My hair is always a frizzy mess because I can't be bothered to do anything other than shampoo and condition it (occasionally it freakily looks vaguely normal, but is nothing to do with me). P was v strict with me today, not allowing me to try on any cardigans (not even slim fitting black ones), and making me buy a jacket that I thought was too small but apparently fits me fine - hmmm. Actually it is always v affirming to go shopping with P, as is sort of opposite of going with mother. Mother: You'll never wear it/ it's too tight/ it shows your huge stomach/it's white, you'll dirty it in two minutes. P: it looks gorgeous, you should definitely get it/ Or (if looks hideous) no it's cut all wrong, what bad dress making!
I left P to rush back to her normal job rather than being wardrobe consultant to self and carried on wondering down Kings Road by self. This was a mistake, a girl from Devon/ Belfast cannot cope with on rush of consumption possibilities. Was suddenly madly desperate for Greek Korres shower gel (bought some of that actually), fine Merino wool tights, funky hair clips, new glossy hardback books, white and blue be ribboned bras, bright pink ski jackets, chocolate tankinis etc etc. Found self in kind of daze at 3:30pm staring at the hairbands in John Lewis thinking "mmm, I need some of those for swimming" when was jolted back to reality and realised that I'd already spent £100s.
As I was having a restorative latte I witnessed a slice of SW3 life. A young woman with long blonde hair and a Catherine Deneuve esque trench coat was pushing a Bugaboo and had a small blonde haired boy with her. He, aged all of about 3, was wearing a bottle green blazer and a CAP. All of a sudden he stopped running and ground to a halt and began to wail. "Henry, you're jolly well walking. You've been walking BEAUTIFULLY til now and you're JOLLY well going to carry on. " Henry simply jumped up and down on the spot and wailed some more. "We're just going to JOLLY WELL stand here IN THE RAIN until you stop." Henry didn't seem particuarly perturbed by this, and carried on jumping up and down and saying "No no no". "I'm NOT carrying you". "Pleeeese." This carried on for 10 more mins. Time for the big guns. "Mummy. IS. Going. TO....RING. DADDY in a minute." She whips out her mobile and dials. Have sudden hilarious vision of top flight banker/lawyer being interrupted in meeting for wife to tell him she can't get his son to walk down the street. "Daddy wants to talk to you now." Unfortunately, Daddy's patriarchal authority was somewhat undercut by it being delivered by mobile phone, as Henry refused to speak into it, and just carried on wailing. LOVE Henry, think is great child, and poor kid, if you are going to force him to be hothoused from aged 3, is it any wonder he is bloody knackered and can't be arsed to walk? Mummy eventually put him in his raincoat and marched him to the bus stop, saying "You'll JOLLY well know we can't get the BLOODY bus everyday."
By the way, I am now celeb spotter extraordinaire. I saw Bob Geldof wandering down the road. He was wearing yellow trousers and a big blue coat, and had his arm round a girl who looked young enough to be his daughter (maybe she WAS his daughter). They went into Boots, and I felt v ashamed of self for posh Greek shower gel. I expect Bob buys Boots own and gives the difference to the African poor. Well, I *hope* he does.