I want to be in London

This is how I lost my London Virginity.

I hate coffee. I love tea. But Starbucks is must-be.

My Little Vilja with Big Ben:

Look out for tourists:

The city of Westminster and Wilma Circus:

Let your people call my people and let's meet at Picadilly Circus:

Somethings are bigger than the Big Ben:

You can't call yourself British when you don't know what Burberry is:

Not 1. Not 2. Not 3. Not 4, but 5floor Topshop:

Act rich and keep on walking:

When you're labelled, you're disabled. This is more my style:

0-glasses are very London:

#no words given#:

Something that you see in Vogue not in real life. I have seen it.
I have died and gone to heaven:

Went to see our friend Stella:

LV is a big NO-NO, but this is rather lovely:

Ignore me and look at the Yoko Ono:

A little drinky before we go:

London nightlife:

The night we spent in the East End:

The Queen Bee visited the Queen of England:

Dear Ian, Mama is buying tea from Harrods:

Too good to be true. Too excpensive to be in my closet:

Harrods is even greener on the outside:

I miss Estonia and Balti jaam, where I bought all my bags under 5eek. Yves Saint Larent, you name it, you'll find it. Here Second Hand means Vintage and costs 45£:

Shoeper Hero:

There's never too many earrings

Now Vilja is back in Sweden and I'm back in Rochester.
I miss my Miss V.