I have equal love and hate for Spitalfields market. Love for the great picking-at-bits-of-food-ness and the fact that I am guaranteed to find something I like. Hate for all the touristy crowds and pretentious “I am so bohemian but I’m from Hackney” hags that populate the market on a Sunday. The teenygoths have camden, and the fashion victims have Spitalfields, I suppose. The penguin classics bookstall made up for that part though – I could have easily spent hundreds there today had it not all gone on ebay in the past week. At least I managed to snag a Handmade Bargainous Summer Skirt.
This trip home has been too long. And it’s been a bit of a bizzare one. I’ve spent as much time in town (which reminds me – also went to the British Museum today to scrub up on my Enlightenment) as I have on here negotiating trades and sales for my NIN collection. Perhaps I’m a little aware that this will be the last time I’m going to be here before I end my course, and tomorrow is the last time i’ll be going back to Leeds to do work. The Last Time. I won’t have the excuse not to find a more permanent job because I’ll be starting the next level of my education in September (cheers top-up-fees!). It’s a little like i’ll be springboarding off into a new dimension – new home, new friends (no friends?), new vocation, new life. I went to the Kylie Exhibition on Friday, and it was very hard to restrain the 3 year old in me. Being 3 was awesome. These times they are-a changing, or whatever Bob Dylan said (what was I saying about faux-bohemians? *insert soft cell lyrics here*)
Hm. In other news, I saw a Purina advert with the tagline “Her fur feels so silky”. Internet humour kicked in and I wanted cat food.