LETTER FROM…London

Story and photography by Grace Carroll, a Toronto fashion writer who moved to London to “conquer the fashion world” and live with her rock star BF.

It’s mid-August and I’m standing outside of one of London’s hottest fashion parties of the summer: Wolf & Badger’s Summertime Party in Notting Hill.

As I contemplate how to navigate my way through the crowd to reach the guest-list girl, I smirk at the thought of gelato being served to guests outside. Considering, of course, that the blustering winds and sudden low-temperature has me shivering profusely despite wearing a long-sleeved silk blouse and trousers in what should be the summer’s hottest month.

I slip through the door with my friend Becca in tow just as it begins to pour down outside. Everyone is packed into the boutique, and the claustrophobic environment creates a comforting coziness, sheltering us from the nasty storm that has erupted outside. We weave through the crowd until we discover the bar and each pick up a glass of Pimms (the only drink available) before tucking into a corner to catch up on our latest gossip. ‘Where is the vodka?’ I wonder. ‘I thought this was a fashion party…’

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LETTER FROM…London

Meet Grace Carroll, a Toronto fashion writer, who moved to London to “conquer the fashion world” and live with her rock star boyfriend. She’s smart, super stylish, and just a bit cheeky. We love her. You will too.

My younger brother, Jackson, has popped in to visit me in the big smoke for a week (or two, as he slyly mentions upon arrival) in the midst of his month-long summer Euro tour. I’m his second, earlier-than-expected stop after a romantic rendezvous in Paris with his long-distance lover went sour. In a bid to help him forget about his first nasty break-up, I do what any good older sister would do: ply him with alcohol, feed him vast amounts of artery-clogging foods, and promise him that he will soon stumble upon a dapper Englishman who will sweep him off his feet.

Recovering from the previous night’s arrival/forget-him celebration, Jackson and I warily gather ourselves mid-day to head into east London for a late lunch. Attempting to impress him with my-so-called “Fashionable London Life” we pop into 11 Boundary Boutique in Shoreditch, where I kiss-kiss with the shop girl (my friend Dana) before whisking him away to experience my favourite meal in the city.

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