A postcard from London
The makeup I buy myself, where to get extensions, cooking implements, coffee, a divine hotel, the Pet Shop Boys at Covent Garden
I’ve been in London for a few days and I had the best time. I also left half my makeup at home. I get sent enough makeup to last several lifetimes, but just in case you wonder what I buy with my own money, here are a few bits.
↑ This is brilliant used with a light hand - it gives you such healthy-looking, glowing (but not lunatically shiny) skin and has enough oomph to cover up small marks without looking like you have anything on. Works best with a brush, not fingers or sponge.
↑ I’ve been wearing this on and off for maybe 20 years? It’s been around for so long that I’ll never write about it in my column (see also the paint pot thing in Groundwork), but it is perfection. It’s a MAC single eyeshadow and the shade is Wedge. This on the lid, bronzer in the crease, bit of smudged brown pencil (I had one with me, MAC Costa Riche, also I think an ancient colour), and you’re done. You can smudge the pencil, which is a kohl, up into your outer crease if you want to look more ‘I am wearing eye makeup’. I am also devoted to Victoria Beckham’s kajal pencils. PS I’m sure you know this but if you want smudgy pencils not to smudge more once the initial smudging has occurred, either a) carefully set them with translucent powder or b), much easier, go over them with a long-lasting eyeshadow stick in the same colour - everyone does them, I like this one - and smudge that in a bit too. World’s easiest smoky eye.
I love NARS concealer but I was the MAC counter, so I bought their Studio Fix one, also excellent. I went to Space NK to buy deodorant, which looks so mad written down, but as previously noted Nécessaire’s has exfoliating AHAs in it and gives you incredibly smooth and photogenic underarms. Unlike 99% of deodorants, it also doesn’t contain any pore-blocking horrors.
Then I went and had my colour and (bonded) extensions redone at Gielly Green. If you have thin or thinning hair, Charlie is the most incredible extensionist I’ve ever come across, and I have come across many. You have to book her quite far in advance because she’s abroad half the time. She is amazing. This is for volume, obviously, not because I want mermaid hair like a princess, though I guess she could do you that too. Provided you brush them religiously, they last for months and months and months and none ever fall out.
On Tuesday night I went to a drinks thing and then to dinner with a friend and had a lovely time at both.
On Wednesday I had the morning free, which hardly ever happens. I went into David Mellor in Marylebone because I was walking past and there was a sale. I bought some olivewood spoons to replace my ancient cracked normal-wood spoons, an olivewood utensil pot (not online) to put them in, and some deeply satisfying (in terms of fatness and texture) cork trivets.
Also this peeler/slicer (it juliennes), to help address the courgette situation - we’re about a day away from it being overwhelming - and also because it is such a good colour.
Needless to say, none of these things were in the sale.
While my stuff was being wrapped, a very smart older woman came in pink-cheeked with excitement. ‘The egg cups!’ she said (cried, really). ‘The yellow egg cups in the window! I must have them.’
She didn’t look like the sort of person who goes into ecstasies about egg cups, but there she was, literally shiny-eyed with excitement. I liked seeing how happy she was about the egg cups and I was pleased for her when she bought them - though not as pleased as she was for herself. She left clutching them, like treasure (they were these).
I went and had coffee here ↑, because Diana Henry raved about it on her Instagram and it was practically next door. I agree with her assessment - outstanding coffee (never a given - why is so much coffee disgusting?) and very good snacks. There are various branches and it’s a nice place to sit with your book. I bought this but was too busy earwigging the conversation at the next table - about mismatched libidos - to be able to concentrate on reading it. The Marylebone branch has tables outside, also no pigeons (how?), and they are super-friendly.
Having decided I was now a woman of leisure who bought luxury wooden spoons and mini bottles of her favourite scent because she accidentally left it behind and didn’t care to be without it, I went and had an impromptu manicure at The Nail Spa on George Street. I have frog-green nails, which I am pleased with, but a woman in a hijab sat next to me as I was under the nail-dryer, whipped out her phone and produced a photo of the most amazing ombré nails with fluorescent tips. She had a long consultation with the nail technician who said yes, she could do that, and produced all these gels in shimmering translucent textures. Next time. Actually I probably shouldn’t say ‘a woman in a hijab’ - this TikTok made me hoot with laughter. It’s so true - there is no quicker way of making yourself sound 200 years old.
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THEN - and at this stage I can’t even tell you the levels of excitement - I went and checked into my hotel. This part is very extravagant, but it was a red-letter day (heh) because we were seeing the Pet Shop Boys at the Royal Opera House, plus we’re not going on holiday which in my financially illiterate head means that it’s absolutely fine to have the odd gigantic treat and that it doesn't at all wholly defeat the point.
As a former Londoner, I am unbelievably picky about London hotels, plus there’s a grim, soulless version of ‘luxury’ that brings me out in hives. I also find various luxey things extremely naff. This really narrows down the field. I would much rather slightly tatty but charming than corporate-feeling glitz. Hotels I like, in no order, when I’m not in someone’s spare room: Batty Langley’s in Spitalfields, The Lost Poet in Notting Hill, Durrants in Marylebone, the Zetter in not-quite Marylebone, this Air BnB near Borough Market, the Cable Street Inn in Stepney, Dean Street Townhouse in Soho.
Anyway: I liked the cut of NoMad’s jib ↑, so I booked that, not least because it’s literally across the road from the ROH (in the old magistrates’ court and cop shop, this being the station where the Bow Street Runners, precursors of the modern police force, originated).
Well. Heaven.
The charming people (all Italian, as far as I could see) very kindly upgraded me when I checked in, hence the sitting room. Also, THEY ALLOW DOGS, not that we’d bought any, but it’s useful to know. Also, look at the snack drawer. I think you can tell a lot about a hotel by the snack drawer.
I was waiting to check in behind this elderly couple, and I was patronisingly thinking to myself ‘this is quite a cool, sexy hotel for such old people, hats off to them’. Then the man at reception asked them if they were doing anything nice during their stay, and the woman said ‘YES! We’re going to the Pet Shop Boys tonight!’ so obviously I said, ‘So are we!’ and we all had a conversation about how incredibly excited we were, which was very. Which was when I realised that the chronically ancient old people were actually maybe a couple of years older than me.
The Pet Shop Boys were so, so, so outstanding, and the staging was visually dazzling (they work with creative director Es Devlin, who did the closing ceremony for the London Olympics, and stage manager Lynne Page). The whole show was one of the greatest things I’ve ever seen IN MY WHOLE LIFE.
And what a setting! Everyone was on their feet throughout, hysterical with joy. It was the best vibe. I took loads of footage but unfortunately I am singing along dementedly in all of it (I did post one of the least bad clips on Notes last night). Here’s a picture of them dressed like they were when they first performed West End Girls all those years ago, with their youth literally behind them on the screen. I found parts of the evening very moving and this was one of them. The encore was Being Boring, one of the greatest pop songs of all time. At the end Neil Tennant said ‘After forty years, we are still the Pet Shop Boys’.
It was the best.
Now I am home (it is so lovely to come home. I think that’s when you know you are in the right place - you can have the most fantastic time somewhere but you open the front door and feel delighted). Apologies to anyone who’s commented or messaged in the last few days and got no reply - I didn’t have my laptop with me and will catch up later. Back on Sunday with a food post, which will feature courgettes.
As ever, if you enjoyed this post - despite it being slightly ‘what I did in my holidays’ - then do please hit the ❤️ button. Thank you! Back shortly.
PS I posted this, heard frenetic barking, went outside and lo, escapee sheep. Quite contrasty.
What a lovely description of a fab few days- living vicariously is FUN!🎉Your mention of scent made me wonder….what chance of a perfume post?
I love Durrants Hotel, it has a bit of a Miss Marple feel to it. The cosy bar area is just right.