yea, knightsbridge.
oh how i hate thee.
oh how you fill me with nausea.....!
yea, knightsbridge.
with your Harrods shopper
and your gaggle of ladies who lunch
(at £170 each)
and your Burberry-boutique-H&M mixing
yea knightsbridge.
where can I find a quietude?
where can i find solace?
away from the spend spend high high capitalism?
yea knightsbridge.
your huddled workers.
eating their lunches
seated, precariously, at the edge of the Zara window
gazing at the lovely vista
of the tube entrance.
mercedes to mercedes
pink stretch limo to pink stretch limo
oh knightsbridge.
how I hate thee.
3 comments:
Well, if you want to get away from Knightsbridge, there's always Chelsea.
Hee, hee.
There's a reason I spend most of my time in north London or the East End.
Although honestly, there's this absolutely amazing chocalatier in the King's Road, sort of in the general vicinity of Conran's, although on the other side. Don't remember its name, unfortunately -- so I can't confirm if it still exists -- but I think it's French (naturally), and their chocolate bars come wrapped in a white & pale blue paper. They were the first people I encountered to make bars with things like sea salt and geranium in them. Not at the same time.
I am actually working on a sequel to American Life called Knightsbridge.
OK -- this is a nuisance post. To see if my new icon works...
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