A Tribute To All Things British

Zara headpiece, Prada sunglasses, J Crew necklace

Confession: I have a major crush on England. I like to think that maybe it was something in the water I drank while living there in the early years of my life that really secretly transformed me into a Brit masquerading as a United States citizen. In any event, it’s something I just can’t shake. Every time I land at Heathrow, I’m overcome by the sense that I’ve just arrived home. I can spend hours in Oxford Circus and not feel overwhelmed by the crowds. Hell, I can spend hours in the grocery section of Marks & Spencer admiring all the prepackaged foods and not get bored. And when I’m quietly exploring the streets of Mayfair, my favorite neighborhood in London, I can’t help but wonder which home will someday be mine. I hate public transportation, but somehow I never mind the tube, even when its jam packed with serious Londoners intensely attacking the football section of their free newspapers. I can easily eat a proper English breakfast for breakfast, lunch, and dinner (love baked beans!). And of course, there’s the tea! I love the tea! Especially when served at the poshest of establishments like the Lanesborough, the Savoy, or Claridges. I’m convinced my happiness would increase exponentially if I were allowed to enjoy tea time at least twice weekly. I love English literature, English history, English accents, English magazines, and of course, English transplants (Oh Victoria and David!).

Sadly, I don’t have a UK passport, but I’ve masterminded a brilliant plan to overcome that small obstacle. I will soon be betrothed to a dashing young Brit with a charming flat within walking distance of Savile Row, and if its not asking too much, perhaps a weekend home in the countryside. Don’t get me wrong, I have no plans of permanently abandoning my beloved California, but I would die for the opportunity to split my time between LA and London. And of course, I’ve decided that I absolutely have to have four gorgeous little ones who speak with a proper British accent and call me “mummy” because there is simply no sweeter sound.

If you are wondering where I’m going with this, I’m just now arriving at my intended destination: It has been decided that somewhere between the proposal and the charming summers spent chasing little ones with mouthfuls of digestives through Hyde Park, there will be a lavish British style reception right here in Beverly Hills. And if you are lucky enough to receive an invite, please be sure not to forget the most important accessory of all. You can be assured, since it will be a reception and not an actual wedding, that the bride will also be in headwear. Something much more grand than this, but its a start….

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