In 2010 I moved to England without having been there even once. I couldn't say glamorously that I settled in the big city London, but my nasty country ghetto home was near enough to have often getaways to the capital. There were shops. There were a lot of people. There were friends. There were one drink too many at doggy warehouses. There were first Boiler Rooms, Jessie Ware concerts and all those things "that I liked before they were mainstream".
During that year in Kent I could have done so much more, like find myself university course to attend or overall make me feel more like home. I had just lost a really close person and I was having rather tough time, so I chose to do nothing. Or at least it sounds like that to others, but for me that year in England was like Britney would have said "not a girl, not yet a woman" phase. Fred was with me during the whole time and looking back it was a heartwarming memory.
Last time Fred and I were in London was during Fred's graduation 6 years ago and last time I was there was 3 years ago, when I still lived in Sweden – everything seemed to be so cheap back then (look at that fucking rich Swede). Ironically, during that trip I received a call and a job offer from my future/current boss and I moved back to Estonia shortly after (look at that fucking poor Estonian).
Probably you get by now that London is very special to us and God should save the Queen.
Wizzair at its finest.
wizz (verb) = to urinate:
My mind belongs to Chelsea,
but my reality is in Mustamäe:
Look at the profound hand placement,
that is the "neighbour is coming over to judge your life" gesture:
Yes, the weather is warmer than in Estonia
and the new dress looked prettier than back at home:
Those occupants must be furious over the basic Instagram white girls,
who try to get the best shot at their homestreet:
"Ok, bye!" and I went off to Sainsbury's
to treat myself with prawn cocktail and gooseberry fool:
Sad person being sad over the fact that her kitchen renovation has cost so much
that no & Other Stories fits in the budget (first world problems):
SPOILER ALERT: I did buy myself a bag and did not regret it once:
Too many posed photoshoots for one day,
but that new lens makes my legs kilometres long:
"Please, mind the gap."
"Don't mind if I do":
I look like a classy adult..:
...but I will always be Wilma Circus:
Instead of cocaine and warehouses,
we did some Victoria & Albert museum (an actual place, not a drug name):
My honey really likes to mix and match those patterns:
The exhibition of Tim Walker "Wonderful...
...Things" was a-m-a-z-i-n-g:
When girls look up to Cinderella and other more stereotypical role models,
then my queen was Patsy. I did try to live like her, buy I realised quite quickly
that I would not reach to 30 in that speed:
He did not know who photographer Tim Walker was,
but he was very fascinated nevertheless:
I took two rounds to really see everything:
Never been a fan of Harry to be honest:
Cliches, but hey, if quotes work on you, then use them
(but don't decorate your house with them):
Let there be fish and chips forever:
At Regent Canal and getting high from all the weed smell in the air:
Primrose Hill takes my breath away, as it was friend Sam's backyard (basically).
I have never seen more foxes or climbed more fences than here:
Let's enjoy the green until it's around:
In 2010 Ian came to visit me in England and it was his first time in the UK.
Now he works at Financial Times and let's me sit on chairs where commoners do not usually sit:
Yes, I am so proud of Ian that he gives me moments to act like a rich person:
"Honey, we should found a PR company together! What stops us?"
"Abort the mission! We would have more fun than should be allowed and starve to death instead":
This might not be my best angle, but meeting new amazing boyfriends
and visiting Shake Shack in Europe for the first time
was worth capturing:
Happy National Coming Out Day!
I own all the rooftops next to St Paul's:
I cannot wait to tell my kids about the horrific joke that was know with a name Brexit:
Legs so wide apart that I look like a Shard house:
Evenings were all about pubs and friends:
Also my hairdresser Ron lives in London and only he can cut my thick hair.
Thank you, Ron for owning a salon since 1978 and making me feel like million bucks:
Next *insert ridiculous amount here* picture are dedicated to restaurant Dishoom,
since it is yummy and I ain't lying:
Fred's old fashioned was pretty new wave:
I will cry when it's Ian's last workday at Dishoom:
My favourite boys:
That moment I think about the farts which are caused by all the spicy food:
Mumbai at your service and on your table:
Mocktails make adults happy:
Looking back to these food pictures
make me very sad that my kitchen is under renovation
(who am I kidding, I cannot make this myself anyways):
It was literally a happy hour:
Somewhatslightlydazed.com, Wilma Circus & Greek God,
yes, we should start a band together.
(these two should definitely live closer to me, because more fun would come out of it)
The pleasure was all mine:
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