Harrods - sheer indulgence...

You enjoy some luxury don't you? Of course you do. 

Every girl likes to indulge herself in some luxury once in a while. After all, Loreal has taught us that we deserve it - Pasque je le vaux bien. I must admit that I have a soft spot for those indulgent things, such as chocolate, freshly brewed Italian coffee, an exquisite red wine, French macaroons in pastel colours, shoes (or Choo's if you like), leather hand bags and fashion, fashion, fashion. I do not even think I can blame the Loreal commercials, my hang for nice things started way before Penelope Cruz and Claudia Schiffer started swishing their hair on TV. 

No wonder I loved Harrods. Harrods was one of the places highest on my "have to visit while living in the UK" list. However, the months has gone by, and months turned into a year, and suddenly I have less than two months left on this wet&windy island...And still, no Harrods for me. So the tension and excitement was through the roof when I finally visited the promised land last weekend. I entered the Egyptian hall and I was mesmerized. It was like landing in the middle of a big, big, bottomless candy jar, the candy being made by Celiné, Chloé and Mulberry. I spent 15 minutes alone staring at the Alexa (needless to say, the man of the house which were my escort for the day, was not that pleased - he wanted to move on to the food hall). 

Mr. al Fayed surely knows how to bring luxury and style to the people. However, I do think that the life like Madame Tussaud wax doll of him near by the LV for men counter, was a bit creepy (and a bit..eh...to much?).  But surely, the words "too much" does not exist at Harrods. And I was a happy little lobster prancing around there for a couple of hours. Wishing that I magically would be able to afford a teensy weensy bit of the items I encountered. 

So what kind of people do you find at Harrods? Oh, people like me, just window shopping, Asian rich girls dressed like the Ralph Lauren ski bunnies (so cool though), loads of Russians (they are the kings and queens of opulent luxury) and Italian primadonna's (and here I refer to both men and women). I think I have never seen as much chest hair in my whole life as I did in the D&G for men corner. Ok, you've got money and are fashionable, but does that mean that you are no longer obliged to button up your shirt in public? 

Leopard print tights at D&G, and purple latex and plastic dresses at Versace aside, I loved Harrods. And yes, I will go there again. And hopefully buy something.