DPB is Mr London Man (yes, that's what 'DPB' is short for).
It's an interesting combo.
As it was the lovely man's birthday on Sunday, I decided to come and spend a few days with him in London so that we could make the most of my time in England. I'm currently sitting here at his kitchen table looking out on a view of... the neighbours' windows.
Well, it's not exactly an elegant Georgian townhouse in SW1, but it's a lovely flat in a lovely area.
It is also the land of the Yummy Mummy.
Cripes, I am so hopelessly the odd one out during the day that it's quite frightening, especially if I dare venture inside the local Starbucks.
|Just in case you've never seen a Starbucks before.|
Secondly, I don't consider myself to be particularly yummy, especially because I forgot to pack a hairbrush or hairdryer and my only hair elastic snapped this morning when I came back from my run (note to self: figure out how Yummy Mummies manage not to sweat or turn puce when they exercise - perhaps they pay someone else to exercise for them?).
There are, however, many reasons to thank the Yummy Mummy brigade, and the wallets of their City husbands, and that is the healthy number of independent shops at this end of the New Kings Road, and, most recently, the opening of a Waitrose on Parsons Green.
No longer do the poor citizens of this part of London have to walk to Putney to enter the hallowed ground that is Waitrose. Oh no, they can now exit the tube and be inside the pristine green-and-white temple before you can say Jack Spratt.
If you are from abroad and have no idea what I'm talking about, I would suggest that you hunt down your nearest Waitrose the next time you visit the UK.
For now, though, I will give you a little visual snippet.
Where else in a metro store the size of a postage stamp (albeit large letter), would you find THREE different types of vanilla bean product, not including the selection of vanilla pods?
Don't even get me started on the crystallised ginger or the organic cat treats.
|I did not feel at all weird taking a photo of the supermarket shelves.|
Strangely, I'm tempted.