Back in the day, in what now feels like a hundred years ago, I used to be an active Livejournal user. For those of you who are (far) younger than me, LJ was an early blogging platform intended to be used as a personal journal. Although I didn’t post so often over there, I was still an avid content reader. My favourite community was A Day of My Life in Pictures (a.k.a. ADIML), a group whose main target was to document the daily lives of anonymous people around the world. As you were posting, let’s say, about your daily errands in a little English town, other individuals were sharing their day-to-day from Korea, Argentina, or Morocco. Cool, right?
Those were candid times when social media was not developed yet and DSLR cameras were a rare privilege, mostly used by professionals. This means photos were taken with domestic devices/phones and the edition was close to nonexistent (shocking!) Oh, the good ol’ days!
A couple of months ago, I published a mock day in a blogger’s life post which was written with a humorous tone and produced a good dose of positive reactions. The truth is that post made me feel a bit sentimental about the bold simplicity of blogging on those first early days, just for the sake of it: there was no editorial calendar, no SEO research, and of course, no content strategy—we didn’t even know about those things back then. As strange as it might sound today, we used to blog for fun. Hence, I thought that for a change I could write a new article, reflecting a random day of my new life as a Londoner. Just as I would in 2005. Don’t say I am no nostalgic…
So, here we go: this is my November 27th, 2019.
08.00 a.m. (My apartment)
I’d love to write I woke up with that Hollywood movie golden sunlight but for the sake of honesty, I’ll confess this is the gloomiest day this week so far. (Because, as we all know, if you plan a photo day, the chances are it will be the darkest Morning ever. Hey, Murphy’s law! I love you too…) Given the fact I live in London now, rain and fog are on the daily menu at this time of the year which means coffee is an integral part of my morning survival strategy. I should be probably taking a photo of me, just as I wake up but c’mon, no chance that happens before coffee… There you go a photo of the bedroom views instead.
08.30 a.c. (After coffee, FYI)
Once the coffee has helped to vanish that heavy morning cloud of doom, I am ready to start my day slowly. Reaching for the phone seems unavoidable, but it is a necessary part of my early routine: while I finish my first cup, I use the time to check my email inbox, post on a few daily twitter morning threads, and schedule social media posts for the day. Once I’m done with the most basic digital errands, I relax a bit with a magazine (old school girl here) and then, I am ready for some self-care.
09.00 a.m.
After the shower is time for skincare! Since I started embracing my mid-thirties—or how I affectionately call them, the beginning of the end (I am joking. Sort of.)—I’ve been experimenting a bit with natural rose-based products (more on that coming soon). So far, my favourite is The Ordinary Organic Cold-Pressed Rose Hip Seed Oil. I apply about six drops every night after my normal evening routine and next morning my feels soft and radiant. Also, it seems to reduce my hormonal breakouts sensibly—in other words, Saint Grail.
In the mornings though, I am using Clinique Liquid Facial Soap for very dry to dry skin, applied with my Foreo Luna 2 for a deeper cleanse and exfoliation. After that, I am finishing things up with the Garnier Soothing Botanical Toner, followed by the Dramatically Different Moisturizer and (still under test) Caudalie Polyphenol C15 Creme de Jeux. Then, I wrap myself in unicorn tears infused silk and I am good to go. Oh, the times I would splash some water on my face and leave the house…
10.30 a.m.
Before getting ready, I sit to drink a second coffee and make some quick blog admin. Replying comments is my favourite part (although I probably spend far too much time thinking about what I should reply and kicking myself for not being a bit better in conversation). By the time I am finishing, I check the watch and oh my… Houston, we’ve got a problem. As usual, I misjudged the time span after breakfast and I suddenly realize I’ve got about fifteen minutes left to blow my hair, apply makeup and get dressed to leave the house. Great, right?
11.15 a.m.
Well, it looks like time elapsed again while getting ready and Sebastian is now standing at the room door, looking to his watch and frowning at me consecutively. I am ready and good to leave the house but you know what? I’ll just make use of an extra minute (or five) to take an atrocious mirror selfie. I like to live dangerously, it seems.
12.30 p.m. (The Royal Arcade, Old Bond Street)
After a stressful tube ride, one line exchange, and what it feels like a hundred years, we finally arrive at the location selected for today’s photoshoot. Of course, our friend Murphy comes to the rescue again: since we are shooting at The Royal Arcade, the second we reach the place it starts pouring and waves of people shelter in, which leaves us with an interesting decision to make:
A) Wait for the rain to eventually stop, so we get some privacy while we work (at greater risk of missing the scarce daylight we’ve got to work with)
B) Acting plainly stupid and trying to work with a crowd looking at us
So yeah… we went straight for the latter. I mean, obviously. We love to feel super-weird while we work, after all.
13.30 p.m.
After one hour of hard work in which we had the privilege to feel like freak circus locals (thank you very much to that group of about ten tourists who thought it was totally OK to take random photos of us with their phones while we were working…), we packed our stuff for good and moved on. I’d like to say the effort was worth it, but the pictures we managed to take on those conditions are not that great—I predict a long editing session coming my way—so, can I hear a hallelujah here?
We left the place and stopped at the closest Café Concerto to eat something light. I totally failed at taking a neat picture of my sandwich but I was far too hungry and upset. Am I nailing this post or what?
15.00 p.m. (Fait Maison, Gloucester Road)
After lunch, I say goodbye to Sebastian, who has got a late professional appointment, and I take the underground to Gloucester Road. Today, I am meeting the adorable Tatiana Bellator for afternoon tea. We are visiting Fait Maison, a charming tea salon decorated with flowers and fairy lights, which thankfully sweeps my bad mood in about a minute. By the time she arrives, I have got a delicious Moroccan mint tea, dates and scones in front of me and life is good again.
19.00 p.m. (My apartment again)
Once we leave Fait Maison, I take the tube back home. By the time I arrive home, it’s pitch dark and I am feeling a bit sleepy due to all the delicious food. Hence, I make myself another cup of coffee and start drafting this post but I feel far too tired to finish it. In the end, I switch off the laptop and get myself comfy on the couch. It looks like I am going to have an early Netflix session.
20.00 p.m.
Sebastian gets home just as I am finishing a fascinating documentary about Highclere Castle (a.k.a. Downton Abbey). Unfortunately, it’s now too late for him to perform any damage control since I’ve already redefined my living standards, so:
- We need at least one butler, two maids and one chef (I will pass without the so-called deer-killer for now because… you know? Creepy.)
- I am searching online for fancy tiaras, preferably with pink diamonds
- How do I get my own castle? Does anyone know? Asking for a friend…
09.00 p.m.
By the time we sit down for dinner, I am not over the fact no butler is serving us (#sounfair), although it’s probably for the better. As Sebastian kindly remarks, I can be socially awkward in the presence of strangers and an army of servants would not help. Well, I might have no faithful Carson to serve dinner today, but I have pasta on my plate and that can only be a good thing.
10.30 p.m.
I went to bed with the firm intention of catching up with my read but it looks like I fell asleep at some point. I think I should call it an early night. I have written 1500 words by now and most likely nobody will be reading this, anyway. But if you are: first, you’re a hero and second, thank you for reading about this crazy fashionista daily shenanigans.
