What Poppy did.

Little surprises around every corner, but nothing dangerous.

Who's Poppy?
I'm a 21 year old damsel, living in East London and wishing the world was made out of cheesecake. By day I work at Globrix. By night...well, that's a different story all together

What's this site?
It's my online scrapbook, I have a real life scrapbook but if you're all the way in Timbuktu then I can't show you that very easily. Here, I'll be rocking up every day with short vids filmed on my pretty in pink Flip cam, there'll also be photos, links and general Poppified ramblings.

I heart you/I hate you, how can I get in touch?
That's schimple. Just drop me an email or leave a comment.

Remember to add me to your RSS readers princes and princesses, then you'll never miss a beat!

Braving Oxford Street.

Oxford Street epitomises everything I dislike about London, it’s crowded, dirty, there’s too much traffic and it’s full of tourists who decide to consult their A-Zs in the middle of the pavement (when they’re not rubbing you up the wrong way with their wallets full of super-strength Euros).

That being said, I discovered a Cinnabon on New Oxford Street today, I’ve never seen one in London before so that was rather exciting. I somehow or other came to the conclusion that a ‘caramel pecanabon’ was healthier than what I was planning to have for lunch (burger, chips and lashings of garlic mayo at Eagle Bar Diner) and promptly shelled out £4 (yes, four bloody pounds) for something that after three mouthfuls made me feel very sick indeed…

After the consumption of a month’s worth of calories I hit the shops.

I did very well I have to say. I kept my breathing under control, kept myself plugged into the iPod as to drown out the sound of teenagers bickering about the last pair of discounted skinny jeans, and rid myself of Gregory at the sign of the first shop allowing me to concentrate on the mammoth task at hand. I bought a couple of pairs of luverly trousers, a dress, a strappy top, some funky long cardigans and these more gorgeous-than-thou shoesies…

Every girl needs shoes covered in diamonds. Okay, they’re not *real* diamonds but they are very sparkly in a way that the camera on my phone simply can’t convey.

I was wearing my canary yellow Burberry mac so I couldn’t buy anything in Selfridges (I didn’t want to clash with the bags) but that wasn’t really an issue in the end as everything on sale ranged from icky to hanus. There was a massive queue at Louis Vuitton which made my blood boil, I only needed to get a 2009 diary refill so I didn’t see why I had to join the queue but ho-hum.

After bumping into Jason from Take That on Bond Street I decided it was time to call it a day. My feet were blistered, my bags were heavy, and I had vowed to move away from London and never return.

Once I got back to my flat I tried on my purchases (a savvy shopper never attempts the queues for the changing rooms during Sale Season) and I quickly realised I’d been a bit optimistic when I thought I hadn’t gained a clothes size.

Oh well, the cardigans are long…nobody need know that I can’t do up the buttons on my new trousers!

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