TWINKLE TOES AND LONDON FOG
RINGING IN THE NEW YEAR WITH MY MATES
I keep all of my substacks in one folder on my computer – and if you can believe it, I write even longer than the words I publish every week. So, I have beaucoup of documents. This morning … (very early – the gift of décalage horaire (jet lag) from my trips: France to the US, US to France again, France over to the UK, and now back to France for a bit. I say “a bit,” because in only a few short weeks I will again pop back over to London, for the mini one hour time change, where I’ll get to be with one of my best friends - Erika from America - for another fun-filled DJ dancing, spa going, belly laughing, and deep talking weekend.) Anywayyyyyy, as I was saying, this morning as I opened my substack folder in the darkness, I saw all of my unpolished first-drafts. It brought great joy to my heart! This past year has ALL been documented, what a joy I have to look back on. I have made lasting memories not just in my mind but in these pages.
Happy New Year! Here’s to making more memories and keeping track of all my souvenirs in written form while I’m En Route to wherever life is going to take me next.
LONDON TOWN
I have always had a special affinity for English culture. And maybe that’s because my late grandmother, the original Belle Miller, used to tell me that she and I were both switched at birth. That we were both meant to be a part of the royal family. And as silly as it sounds now that I am in my late 30s, I believed her! (And shhhhhh, don’t tell anyone, but I still kinda do. I think I’d do spectacular curtsying in formal gowns and white gloves. Just sayin’)
In fact, I have found it (along with many of my best friends) bazaar that I chose to move to France as opposed to England when I took the decision to hop the pond. Alas, this past trip was so incredibly wonderful that I had an epiphany. I wasn’t supposed to move to England. And as nuts as it sounds, because I love it so so SO much, I am very thankful that I didn’t move there. I adore it too much for it to lose its allure for me with everyday life. I would stop seeing it all with my chosen rose colored glasses. I would have possibly lost my upgradey-ness that London always provides me. So yes, in this new year of mine – I feel very thankful not to be living there but getting to pop over whenever I want an added dose of sophistication and greenlights!
Here’s what I mean…
Arriving on December 31st to Gatwick Airport, I took the fast train to Victoria Station. Once there, I walk to The Mayfair Townhouse, where I was calling home for the night (and where you should too whenever you visit The Royal City. It’s incredible!) On the way, I passed Buckingham Palace, walked through The Green Park beside the Ritz, and listened to the best accent there ever was coming from every which way – British.
After depositing my bags, I decided to go eat something yummy for my last meal of 2024, and something heavy and fried to be the bedrock of soaking up all the bubbles I planned to consume in a few short hours. The Mayfair Chippy deemed just the spot! The move there is to order their classic: fried cod with chips and pea mash. The other move? Always go solo so that you can get a seat sooner. I was, as usual, able to skip the line and shown to that perfect seat up front — the kind that every restaurant has, that lone empty spot or table that’s just small enough to squeeze one person in. Greenlight! Another move though here? Always ignore that second move (ha) and take someone with you!! Because oh. my. gawd! the meal is meant for TWO. I could barely make it through a quarter of the cod without any chips.
Quick catnap and shower before I slipped on my NYE attire. (The same dress I danced the night away in two years ago at Jane and Patrick’s NYE wedding). I walked the short two blocks down to Little House, where the private soirée was kicking off. Walking in there were silver balloons littering the place. It looked spectacular! And the birthday girl (the reason I was there), Dominique?! She could not have looked more special. She was sporting a black velvet, off the shoulder, mini dress with silver eyelids. In fact, everyone there was sporting a dazzling eye. It all looked so glamorous!
I am a mouth to a flame when I hear music and see a dancefloor! So, after my second coupe of champagne in the first 30 minutes (oops! And yet, yay!), Jen, Elliot, Kishan and I migrated into the ballroom, where I swiftly left them and found my way into the arms of Liam and his husband. My dance partners for the night and apparently for life. We were all in love by the end of our body electric moves! Twirling me from one side of the room to the next, dipped me with grand (almost hit my head) force, and made-up choreographed leg kicks in real time. I was in heaven! And also their muse. So fun! Gays are my absolute favorite to dance with. They’re fun, flirty, soft, fashionable, shimmy, and yet strong enough to dip a woman. Yes, please! They all called me Twinkle Toes!
FIVE HOURS later and only one video of proof (that didn’t even highlight all of the leg lifts, floor slap, full body dips and twirls that would have made my 5th grade Jazz dance teacher glee with pride), we took over the dance floor and people stood around watching for our next move. Best night of my life! And the BEST way to ring in the new year. It was decided then and there. This coming birthday of mine will be a DANCE PARTY. Ring the alarms – if you’re in Paris, we will be dolling up and shaking all the talefeathers all the livelong night!
Trying to settle down when I returned back at the hotel was a feat – I took a sober up and relax shower then snuggled into my heavenly bed where I snacked on all the mini bar popcorn, drank all the mini bar seltzer drinks hidden in the fridge, and reviewed all the highlight reels over and over again in my mind. It was a DREAM!
Waking up to a panicked text from the couple who I gifted my apartment to in Paris for their honeymoon, wasn’t a great start to the new year. But, in this 2025 – I have vowed not to complain. If something isn’t great going on, or has me stressed, or rejected, or uncomfortable. What can I control? The way I see it. So, this being my first test, I decided to be thankful with how my brain works. I responded to them on how they could fix said problem and sent examples that I had found on google. I gave so much gratitude that I am a solver – that I find solutions. And did this time too. A few countries away, an ocean between, and a different time zone which could have created stress – instead – with no complaints here! I thought on my feet. (The ones I danced on only a few short hours prior).
Speaking of feet – I walked nearly 12 miles that day. Following my ear, I found myself at the London New Year Day Parade cue where all the bands were lined up for blocks and blocks practicing their songs and all dancing to the other’s tunes. In the midst of the misty, less than desirable weather, it gave me permagrin instantly to see everyone freezing cold and yet still smiling as they jammed! As I made my way up to Piccadilly road, I spotted a… could it be?... cowboy?!! Sure was! Texas was in London. For some reason, the band leader spotted me and decided to chat. When I told him that I was a South Carolinian and had NO idea that this parade was even happening here today. He laughed and said “Hearing us must feel like home then.” He wasn’t wrong. Upgrade!
LIFE, LIBERTY (LONDON) AND THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS
Yep! I had it all on the first day of the new year. And it all happened in Liberty, my London happy place. As I walked in, drenched from the rain, and yet happy because everyone was still at the parade so I had the store to myself. I swaddled my umbrella in one of those plastic bags to catch the water and then ping ponged between the few other tourists who had the same idea I did, to go while it was quiet. I found myself in the vintage jewelry department almost instantly where I may or may not have slipped on a 2.5 carat single set diamond ring that I almost pretended to be incapable of removing. (I had planned to blame the finger swelling on the late night salted popcorn.) Alas, knowing that I was not in the market for diamonds (that day anyway), I ultimately gave it back and went on to explore the other 5 floors of goodness!
Browsing through each line, touching all the fabrics, making mental notes on what brands were new to ask my friends about. Had me working up an appetite. I walked over to Dishoom, where I just knew I was going to get seated. As we all know, London has the greatest Indian food – so this is always my tagteam of a day. Life, Liberty (London), and the pursuit of (Dishoom) dal.
In the downpour, I was told that it would be a 55 min wait. Not ideal. I walked in to give my name anyway and attempt my best to negotiation tactic for a quicker seating. Yet, after a solid 1 minute and a solid NO everytime I asked, I decided to move on with my day. Walking out, and not two steps away, a lady ran after me “Ma’am. We can seat you!” Eeeeeep! Did I just do that?! I called it in! I KNEW I was going to get seated and lo and behold here we are. GREENLIGHT.
Walking in, they pointed me to the largest table in the place. I laughed with glee. Was this a joke!? All pour moi?! I had hit the jackpot. It turns out that I had a limit of one hour at the table. I learned this, because when I offered for the other groups who were waiting to join me, my precious waitress said they couldn’t. No time! They could only serve one person and I was the lucky one! I laughed with excitement. My waitress, Aisha, (we practiced her name 10000 times before I got the pronunciation. Alicia, without the L basically) couldn’t stop saying “I think you got the table because you have the best energy!” Made my heart swell with Life, Liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Before I left, she slipped me two free breakfast passes – something she told me that they don’t often do. Precious! I haven’t used them – but since I’m returning in a few weeks, I’ll hopefully get to see her again over eggs and chia as opposed to chicken Ruby and beer.
Portobello Hotel. Ok. Ok. I know I said that The Mayfair Townhouse was my favorite – and it is, if you’re in that particular hood – but Portobello? It’s my 100% FAVORITE hotel of all time. It’s quaint, quirky, yet classic, small, yet big enough that you don’t feel tight, it’s overlooking one of London’s many private parks, it’s colorful, has the most comfortable beds in all the land, affordable, and best of all, there are claw bathtubs IN the room if you’re lucky. Yes, you read that correctly. Not in the bathroom. IN the bedrooms. Yes please!
When I made the decision to extend my stay days before I was to leave – I emailed to ask them if they would honor the rate I was already paying for the other nights booked if I chose to stay longer. They immediately responded “Of course! We would be happy to!” Greenlight. So, I booked. When arriving, I asked if my room had a bath. And if not, and not too much trouble, if I could possibly please get a room with a bath for my stay without bumping up into another priced level of room. With one rapid type of the computer, the concierge looked up and said “Since you’re staying so many nights. I actually have an incredible room that I would like to put you in instead because (wait for it… wait for it) I like your energy.” NO JOKE he said the same thing that Aisha said a few hours earlier. 2025 new energy, new ACB. He kept my rate at the low price even though he gave me a significant upgrade. Greenlight! And as irony would have it, I actually unlocked the door of my past. I had stayed in this exact room three years prior on one of the BEST trips of all time. The trip that ignited my desire to live in Europe. I was home, I felt! At least for those 3 or 4 nights.
MY ‘AH HA’ THIS TRIP
I realized on the 2nd day of the year, as I woke up in my wonderland of a room, did a meditation, felt so happy and in flow, that I wasn’t supposed to have moved to London. Let me back up. Since moving to France (permanently-ish) back in October – especially when I have moments of doubt, struggle, sadness, misunderstanding, you name it… but any negative emotion or confusion – I have asked myself why I chose France and not England. When England would have been the much easier choice for me. Where I had loved the most.
But on this day, I realized, had I moved to England when I was in need of change, I would have risked losing my allure of one of my all time favorite cities. I love this place so much! I have friends in this place! I speak this place’s language (figuratively and literally). I know the restaurants, neighborhoods, streets, and Mews. Yet, had I actually moved there, instead of Paris, I could have spoiled that for me. I talked with Nick, my friend (who I coincidentally met on that magnificent trip three years ago), about this on my final night there. He thought this was a genius realization. To keep my vacation mode in London – so that I remain enamored at all his grey and fog and pints and dark humor (things many Americans are grumpy about months into living there. Never me now!)
Meandering through Notting Hill and daydreaming about someone buying me the top floor of the Paul Smith townhouse so that when I do come over I could be on the chicest corner of all time in the center of the chicest neighborhood of all time — I finally woke up in reality and found myself at the Victoria and Albert Museum. Another favorite of mine. Fragile Beauty, an exhibition of the private photo collection of Sir Elton John, and his partner, David Furnish, were on exhibit until Saturday. I had to get in! Yet, when I went to buy a ticket at 10:45am, the ticket lady told me that the earliest she had a spot was at 1:15pm. Shucks! That felt like eons away.
I had also wanted to see the Naomi Campbell NAOMI in Fashion exhibit and was on the fence about which one I wanted to go to more. SO, this made my decision! One ticket for Naomi, please! It was magic. I have a new respect and love for Ms. long leg gorgeous Campbell. Her full career was documented through the maze of audio interviews, dresses, polaroids, and catwalks! That’s right! There was even a catwalk there for you to try. While there, a seven year old did it and WERKED it! She was serious as a heartattack and her mama could NOT have looked more proud. I think my little girl will one day do the exact same. It was precious to witness – the little girl’s love for fashion and her mama’s love for anything that her daughter loved. J’adore ça!
After getting a fashion upgrade. I decided I needed to see the Elton John exhibit too. What was I thinking leaving without feasting my eyes on a limited exhibit?! Returning to the ticket lady, I over heard her telling the two ladies in front of me that she “only had one ticket left for the 1:15 pm slot.” Unbeknownst to them, I was willing that ticket to be mine! Sorry ladies! Move aside! Alas, with a swoop of a credit card, it was sold to the lady in front. Mais non!!!!! I did my best to negotiate my way in, yet there was no budging her. I bought the 3:15 pm ticket instead. Turning around to the exhibition hall, I went to the docent manning the door. I showed my ticket and pleaded for him to let me go in a little earlier since I was on a time constraint. (He didn’t need to know the time constraint was really a piece of Honey Cake from Harrods that had been calling my name since landing in London Town.) He looked around, as if we had a secret, and told me to “enjoy” with a wink and a nod of his head. GREENLIGHT. It wasn't even 1pm yet. I would get in before the lady who bought my ticket would. Nanny nanny boo boo!
And of course, after, I treated myself to cake.
All roads lead to Harrods. Funny enough, when I took over the lease of my treehouse on Île Saint Louis from Simona (my precious blond landlady-ish), she handed over her keys on an old Harrods keychain. I remember thinking then how ironic the whole situation was. That I was in Paris full of uncertainty and confusion on how I had gotten there having to find another apartment – and somewhat pining for normalcy which would have been more likely in London – And yet, meeting this precious person who reminded me of myself (only blond and French), who loved England as much as I did! What are the odds?! I remember that sealing the deal for me. Her Harrods keychain to my precious treehouse. I’ll take it!
Later, to digest and walk off the 100,000,000 calories I just consumed by licking my plate clean of my Honey Cake, I spotted Big Ben. He rang loud for me as I cut the corner (unplanned) in time for his 4pm chimes. It was one of the highlights of my trip. I heard him ding four times and then release his bells for a tune. What a gift! That night, I wrapped around Buckingham Palace for my final time, and wandered through the Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park before reaching the hotel to change into my warmest attire (the temperature had dropped to a bloody -2°). I was off to meet my dear friend, Peter, at The Pelican for beers. He was in my French course back in February. We bounded a few days into our course and sat beside one another each day from there on out. We practiced a little French this evening together and really just had the greatest time catching up on his new marriage and my plans for 2025. Sharing all the fun news over pints and body shivers as we sat outside in the frigid cold. It was bloody freezing and wonderful!
Marlyebone was calling my name when I woke up on my last full day in London. The sun was beaming and therefore warmer temperatures awaited. As I was en route, I stumbled upon Paddington, where I completely fell in love. How have I never spent time here? It’s quiet, grand, gorgeous, private, lux, I wanted in! Every Mew, Circle, Court sign felt like an invitation for me to enter that cove and bask in the dream of owning the furthest house from the main street, where I would do as the other locals do and park my tiny vintage English car beside all of the potted English plants on the cobblestone path in front of a bright painted door. In love!
Walking over to Chiltern Firehouse, where I had every intention of sitting for lunch or at least a coffee, if I felt the vibe was calm. I decided to just enjoy her from afar this time. Instead, I walked Chiltern’s perfect hood and got a coffee from Chiltern Street Deli. A precious spot across from John Simons, an incredible menswear/can be worn as womenswear (my favorite kind of look) store that I have no memory of ever seeing in the past. It was everything! I studied every look they had on all the mannequins. Don’t be surprised when I show up sporting the same look … ummm EVERYWHERE all the time!
By the time I wound back around Hyde park, basked in the sun for as long as I could possibly manage, and strolled past all the diplomat’s homes on Kensington Palace Gardens behind Kensington Palace, I found myself thawing out over a pint of Local IPA and a plate of what else? Fish and chips. Don’t worry, this isn’t the only thing I ate while in london. I too happen to also squeeze in a Scotch Egg. After my fill, I was off to pack up (nooooooo time’s almost up!), switched over my flight (late that afternoon I got an email that ummm my flight had been canceled due to unexpected snowlike weather in Paris. Ahhhhhhh.. Back to the winter tundra the next day and it’s already affecting my vacation. Sorry!! NO COMPLAINING, AC!!), book an uber, and change clothes for beers with Nick.
I met Nick at The Uxbridge Arms, where we gabbed for hours. As I mentioned, he and I met three years ago on that trip of mine in the Waterstones Bookstore in Piccadilly Square. I had gone in to buy Appeasing Hitler, a book written by, my now friend, Timmy Bouverie. At the time, I was working at The Library Society and we had just invited Timmy to come speak about this book months before. When my trip coincided with him being in town, and I was seeing him for dinner that night, I decided to buy his book so he could sign it for my history loving father as a gift. Anyway… that’s why I was in the bookstore. Nick followed me down the stairs until I noticed him and stopped. He asked if I were French (no joke! He later told me it was my fringe and the way I was dressed that had him thinking Penelope vibes for me, from Pepé Le Pew. You think I’m French?! I’ll take it!!!! Ever since, I have seen him each time I’m in London for pints and movie talks. He’s a director.)
Nick filled me in about the process of applying for Film Festivals, about the films he’s been working on, about all the happenings of his life this past year, and about why in the world all the other people there were glued to the telly watching a Darts Championship. (Turns out, like Félix and Alexis Lebrun, the brothers in France who put Ping Pong on the map here, Luke Littler is doing the same thing for Darts in England. He is 17 years old and the youngest dart throwing world champion.) On occasion, the pub would erupt in a loud explosive uproar of disgruntled noises or hand clapping and sloshed beer-cheersing depending on this young chap’s performance. We had a ball. He walked me to my hotel and we promised to do better about keeping in touch. Such a great visit.
My final day came early … as I could barely sleep the night before with anticipation of traveling the next day. Since my flight got moved, I decided to take a car to the airport and forgo doing what I had wanted and walking through Hyde park to Victoria Station for one last time, and honestly, I am happy I did. The drive out to the airport was remarkable. English countryside – for me, is a close second to the French countryside. Foggy and adorned with painting-like beauty. My cabby was the kindest, smiley-est and happiest about the day ahead. His disposition reminded me of who I’d like to be more like in this coming year. Cutting out the three cancers of the human mind: criticism, comparison, complaining. 6 days in and I think I’m doing pretty good (aside from that obvious one slip up a few paragraphs back.)
I had an hour delay at the airport, where I was able to write down so many of my memories in real time. And by the time I reached Paris, eyes pierced with tears within minutes of arrival when someone didn’t understand me – I realized I was back. No more vacation mode. I was back and facing the challenges that France brings me daily. Note, this is not a complaint, just a data point. Ps. if you’re wondering. No. No one checked for my visa (again!!).
Since returning, as I mentioned at the beginning, I had friends of a friend stay in my apartment for their honeymoon… so my home has been one steady flow of laundry-day. And I have loved every minute! It is nice to be back – in fact I had a coffee with a friend this morning, a dinner with another tonight, and friends coming to town over the next two weeks. Life is good and full of wonderful hopeful potential in this coming year. And, cherry on top!? I got in just in time for one of the Parisian treasures. Free visit to a museum on the first Sunday of each month. I went to The Rodin – one of my all time favorites. This was the first time I ever got to actually see the outside gardens. Each time I've gone, for the past 18 months, they have been covered for fashion shows, repairs, planting season etc. This time? No boundaries. Just an exceptional visit. One where after, I took the long way home and walked passed The Grand Palais where it appeared that ice skating was taking place, over to l'avenue des Champs-Élysées where I marvelled at all the lights in the trees, through the Tuileries Garden where I found it ironic that there were enormous modern neon light rides beside one of the most coveted museums of all time, The Louver.
As Diana Vreeland infamously said – “The best thing about London is Paris.” And on the night I reentered her from the very best trip yet in London, I would venture to say… she wasn’t wrong. Paris is spectacular! Especially at night!
Until next week. Xxo ac
Loved this! What a perfect way to spend a moment in London