oh, Mr Postman...

Arriving home post-holiday is always a bummer. Not because my normal life in England isn't lovely but saying goodbye to family is always a downer. Especially when you've got a four year old in a pink tutu running across the terminal, as you try to walk through passport control, in order to give you one last hug before you leave. Enough of that though, the last thing we need right now is a teary eyed girl on public transport. All this is really just to say that the postman made my arrival back home a little more cushy. I had a substantial stack of letters and packets waiting for me. Mixed in between the phone bills and old issues of the Economist was a little selection of tickets to London Fashion Week. Sigh.. all those e-mails payed off and the effort was well worth it. Even if the typo 'the style cruisader' kept popping up... surely I didn't write that in my e-mails? and hopefully no one is expecting a yachting blogger to show up in nautical themed gear? Anyway. Apologies for the rambling. I am knackered. Flew in from the US this afternoon, went home to Oxford, sorted out my junk, threw a random selection of clothes into a bag, hopefully remembered all necessary electronics... and am now off to Daniella's place to crash for the weekend. If you spot a slightly delirious, mismatched, red eyed mess tomorrow stumbling around Somerset House - chances are its me. Regardless of the jet lag and unshakable nostalgia for banter filled days with my family... I'm excited to check out the new collections and catch up with Londoners I haven't seen for ages. Thanks Mr Postman for making my return to 'normal' life a little sweeter.