Having spent the better part of the day ploughing through press applications for London Fashion Week (February 19-23rd) I began to feel a tad nostalgic - haven't you heard daaarrrhling, New York Fashion Week is so yesterdays news - i.e. spent yesterday sorting out invites for that.
This freelancing stuff has a lot to answer for. Lovely though it may be to run your own ship, I do miss the office set up that back in Blighty one might have taken for granted. When striking out on your own there's no jovial chats by the photocopier to be had, no banter around the coffee machine and certainly no early vino stops at Charing Cross station on the way home. On the plus side though, no dour boss to scowl at unless I peek at that sour puss face in the mirror and no dull office gossip to get embroiled in - but I was really good at that bit...
The day had started out with a bit of a glitch in my brave new 'working from home' life, when I found I needed to cancel the Apple workshop, (on how to effectively manage ones time whilst working from home) because I found that I simply didn't have the time to fit it in.
So when it came to sifting through the pile of admin required to get ones fashionista butt to these events it was with a wistful sigh that I began to note some of the London addresses. Having succumbed to the great American grid system over here, surely its only us Brits that can come up with such places as 'The Biscuit Building', or 'corner of three colts lane and coventry road' - it stirs up images of the postie cycling up cobbled streets on his old push bike merrily chucking mail through quaint little letter boxes - or maybe I've just been away too long.
But enough of this self indulgent drivvle - it's onward and upward, time to figure out a schedule with my blogging partner and fellow Brit : Welsh Alien in New York, as well as discuss weightier issues for the Fashion Weeks ahead such as 'heels or no heels?'...
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