roz, on primrose hill, sunday morning in spring

Sunday morning: while the rest of London slept, Mr. Dot and I made our way in our lovely old car to Primrose HIll, to meet Roz, of Clothes, Cameras and Coffee, and her very cool, yet very warm, mum. (She doesn't name her in her blog so I won't either).

While Mr. Dot waited in the car, reading the paper, I scooted up the hill, breathless, a few minutes late. They were already there. And they are absolutely delightful: even more wonderfully wonderful than I had imagined. We'd actually tried a previous weekend, and couldn't get a plan, but this one fell together easily.



Roz is just extraordinary to photograph: she brings something to the moment that feels so quintessentially English: she is Alice in Wonderland, she's grown up, sophisticated and brilliant, yet with that sense of childish wonder that I hope to feel forever. It was just a brief visit - half an hour, maybe a bit more - then we all went on our way. We met a friend in Primrose Hill (the town) and I just felt so buzzed by the meeting - as I sense they did, too. I'm sure- I certainly hope - that we'll hang out again, either here or the countryside. We're just all so on the same page.



The wonderful thing about Roz's style is it is so uniquely, creatively, her own. And her 'sourcing' never actually involves anything you can find online. In fact, her descriptions of her outfits on her blog are probably the most wonderfully whimsical prose I've come across, so that's what I'm giving you, my gift from Roz, today. Her image, and her words:

'The dusky pink 'dress' is actually a pleated skirt from a charity shop that I just pulled up and pinned. Tied around it is a sash my grandma gave me. The trench coat was also from a charity shop - I'd like to say it's Burberry, but unfortunately it's not. Oh well, I live in hope! The top underneath is from Next and the necklace was also given to me by my grandma. I'm wearing my old favourite loafers (charity shopped!) and I 'appropriated' the leather bag from my mum.'



There was something about Primrose HIll on a Sunday morning, the air still cool, fresh, spring like, people arriving, dogs, children, the city below.. from that lofty place.. it feels like in Athens, at the Acropolis: you could almost believe you're dancing among the Gods. That anything is possible.