The Good Ol' British Summer

I'm trying to ignore the fact that it's mid-June and I am considering digging out my winter coat from the cupboard. As much as I do love the old bean (plum coloured perfection if I do say so myself), my leather jacket hasn't had as much exposure this season as I would have liked it too. Plus I'd much rather be strolling around the streets in...well, very little, thank you very much. It was literally a week ago when I was sitting on the grass with my friends discussing sex Machiavelli (or something equally as intelligent), basking in the sunshine and abusing our iPhone cameras. Then just like that - though in a very standard English manner - the next day greeted us with a rather pleasant bout of torrential rain and tornado-like winds. My body genuinely doesn't know how to feel anymore! *sighs epically*  And so folks, this blog post is seemingly transforming itself into the Londoner's guide to Moaning About The 'Summer'.


Top 4 Men's Shoes I Love to Hate

Let's create a scenario, boys and girls. Well, this one's for the girls. Mostly. You're on the train. A 'fit bloke', as my fellow Londoners would say, gets on and sits opposite you. You exchange glances, smile, he looks away and you start examining his attire. "Ooh yes good shout...liking the blazer...awesome choice of hue there...and then we get to the..OH DAYM. Nevermind". He's wearing a pair of double buckled loafers so shiny that your £15 lipgloss suddenly doesn't feel worthy enough. You smile awkwardly and try to look anywhere but his feet. Yet the glint of the plastic silver can't escape your view and all you want is to shake him and ask "Why, boy? Why?!" Here my friends is a prime example of how vital footwear is (and how pervy one can be on public transport).

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