And there we go

With a little bit of wobbly legs (after three glasses of champagne at the Prada opening the night before and the alarm went off quite early), I met Liesbeth at Schiphol. London is calling baby! The past few days I was green with jealousy because of the New York Fashionweek diaries but well, I couldn't complain, because I was lying on the beach of the Côte d’Azur with six girlfriends. But now. Just Liesbeth and me. In London. You understand that we've been looking forward to this for weeks, right?

Cabin crew take your seats

I checked in 19 kilos of luggage (hey nice, I can still shop 4 kilos) bought a few magazines and a Grande Starbucks Green Tea. A piece of cake for a flight, within 45 minutes we were at London Heathrow. Then a short train ride, Lies suggested the subway afterwards, but I put a stop to that. ‘Lies, check my luggage, hassle and all, and I want to see the city a bit, so we’re taking a cab (I usually call it a tax). So said, so done.

The hotel

Now it’s not that hard to have it better than last time during London fashion week. Back then we treated ourselves to a Air bnb somewhere very far from the center, a tiny room at someone's house with a man who used the toilet about every hour, which we could enjoy quite a bit. Sound and smell and all.

This year, it’s St Martins Lane Hotel. With the largest hotel gym in Europe in the basement. The Gymbox. That makes me very happy.

We checked into our room, did a lot of ‘oooh and aaah’, jumped on the bed, immediately hung our clothes in the closet (you understand that the prettiest dresses and blouses were brought along and had to be taken out of the suitcase as soon as possible to avoid wrinkles). Lies immediately called the laundry service since she flew in from New York almost immediately and had no time to do laundry at home.

London Headquarters

You might think that Liesbeth and I only visit a few shows, shop, and dance. Now part of that is true, but of course, work has to be done as well. With our bits of fabric under our arms, we made our office in the restaurant of our hotel. We ordered some delicious snacks and happily typed away for a few hours while certainly saying to each other five times ‘Isn't this lovely?’ ‘How cool is it here!’ ‘Oh how happy I am’.

First night out

Lies in a white tight pencil skirt, t-shirt, L.K Bennet high heels and her Proenza. I wore ripped jeans, a Zara top, an Escada jacket, and super high heels. ‘Jet, no sneakers, you really have to wear heels tonight.’ Luckily, Lies often gave me her arm while walking.

We had a glass of wine at Gordon’s Wine Bar, where I will write more about later, and then took a cab to Hakkasan. Crispy duck, black cod, chicken with truffle, Wagyu beef, along with a lychee martini. Maybe not the perfect combination (and I admit that I'm now a bit bothered by that sweet drink), but it was all incredibly delicious.

I can't think of a better start in London. Today Somerset House is on the menu, people watching, talking to models, let's see what the London fashion crowd is wearing and I'm off to find the best spots to date here. Keep you posted!