It’s bitterly cold in London at the moment. It’s the kind of cold that chills you right through, and makes waiting for a bus or a train particularly miserable. It also makes me keen to hibernate through the rest of winter until the first days of Spring, but I know from experience English winters have a habit of going on and on until April so I’d probably be sleeping for quite a while.
On Sunday morning, we woke up after a very fun, and quite tipsy evening out at the pop-up Forza Win (read my blogpost about it here) and immediately thought of breakfast. Sadly, the kitchen fairies had completely failed to replenish our dwindling fridge so despite the temptations to stay at home in the warm, we ventured out to grey London to grab some brunch.
We had debated the possibility of waking early and hunting down one of St. John’s amazing custard donuts, but given it was a Sunday neither of us could face the trek to one of the few locations they’re sold at. Particularly as the boy had to go into work for the rest of the afternoon (sob), we wanted to stay local to make the most of the morning without spending it waiting for a train in the cold.
[Quick make-up side note, on my face here is the Bobbi Brown Long-Wear Even Finish Foundation in shade Porcelain because I’m a ghost, Anti-Feathering Lip Pencil from Laura Mercier in shade Ruby, a coat of Ruby Woo from MAC and the brand new and incredible Roller Lash from Benefit. Full review of that wonder product is coming soon…]
Brixton is always buzzing at whatever time of day so we headed to Lounge to grab a coffee, a chair and some food.
[Image credit from here]
Lounge is a smallish cafe-cum-bar-cum-restaurant which really comes into its own in summertime. They throw up the massive windows you can see above and serve wonderfully inventive cocktails and a mean jerk chicken burger. However, in the absence of sun or heat, we went for a traditional full English instead to provide some much needed central heating.
Lounge is also great for people watching. You can sit right by the window and watch the world and his wife go by. As it was a Sunday morning we spotted more than a fair few clubbers sneaking home still dressed in last night’s attire and limping slightly from dancing injuries. Having filled our stomachs, and sufficiently increased our caffeine levels, the boy headed off to work (sigh), and I headed to Brixton market to buy some flowers for the flat and the Sunday papers to read away the afternoon.