Kate Spade

 

So last night I went to Kate Spade's pop-up store in Covent Garden. Pretty cool. The Henrietta Street townhouse is usually somewhere for revellers to step down, take a break, sometimes leaving their regurgitated 2-for-1 dinners casually leaning on the lampost opposite. I was happy to see a clean sweep to the entrance hall, white floorboards and coloured stripes welcoming me into what is a rather dreamy venue.

 

Kate Spade adorned the walls and coat stands whilst the slimline beauties and bloomingdale bohemians mooched up and down the stairs to the husky waves from Californian group, The Like. I have to say Kate Spade pushes my fun button - clean lines, bright colours, and some really cute pieces. 

 

Her clutch bags. I WANT!

 



My comrade Helen and I, in her own words, 'loosened up a bit' by the end of the night, thanks to hefty glasses of fizz and barbershop-straw Long Island Iced Tea. Camilla Rutherford breezed past like a beautiful swan (love her) of Englishness. Other lithe limbs toted River Island bags, which on first glance had Marc Jacobs all over them. Sly.

We hit the retro photo booth, a couple of times in fact. 

 

Taxi driver wants to discuss if we should withdraw from the EU? Have we more to lose than gain, what with them wanting to take 6% more of our economy?

 

Hmmmm, I ponder this problem. The EU is a private members club surely? And I know that on a night out I would rather be in the comfort of an exclusive club.

 

Isn't that the same with shopping? Instead of impulse internet buying for an instant fix, I would happily flirt for hours with a clutch bag in a dapper London townhouse, only to move in for the kiss on the fifth date. Voluntary restraint. Maybe for a few more dollar. But hey.

Then I know the kiss will be good.

www.katespade.com