We went to Primark today: Forever 21 on steroids.
Sitting outside waiting for everyone else to check out, looked down, saw these tiny little oxford sneaker things, abandoned.
As I'm trying to decide whether to abscond with them or not, the street sweeper picks them up with his little grabby thing, and turns towards the trash. I say, "Hey, you gonna throw those away?" He hands them to me without a word.
Sitting in the same spot, see three girls with 7 big Primark bags apiece get into a taxi, the bags nearly spilling out.
Going to get stamps, standing in line. (76 p to mail stuff to the States, folks.) and some old man sticks his head in and yells the following (verbatim) not at me, honestly not sure who he was talking to, but there was venom going on. "Hey, where you from? Arab? Israel? Is that it? Go back to your own country!" I honestly felt like slapping his face and breaking his toes.
Then to Oxfam, wherein I acquired purple suspenders with crowns on them for the grand sum of one pound. They will be worn to Fashion's Night Out London tomorrow. Oh yes.
now. pictures. All two of them. more tomorrers. LOTS MORE. we are going to places like Alexander McQueen and Vivienne Westwood and Burberry and other places with window displays that are art and cost a million pounds. Roughly.
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