Like writing to the Westminster Abbey Faculty Office (address: 1, The Sanctuary. Nice isn't it?), and telling them that we did finally secure that bloody visa they asked us to get. After all the kerfuffle I'm tempted to sign off with an angry, scawled 'happy now?!'. But we need their okay to get married in our Alma Mater so we'll keep it polite.
these crazies who specialise in making hair look like a basket.
And spending half an hour in VV Rouleaux selecting the perfect shade of yellow grosgrain for the sashes on my flower girls' dresses.
After a trying-on session at NARS I am dreaming of eyeshadow. Literally. Like, long, involved dreams in which many and various shades of eyeshadow are displayed and discussed.
Pure bobbins! Absolute frivolity! And a very welcome break from hassling Virgin Media for an installation date this side of Christmas.