Sunday, 20 November 2011

Made In West London: How To Fake It

By Imogen Rowland
Oh, how the other half live. Poached pterodactyl eggs on toast for breakfast. Emerald-encrusted sea scorpion for lunch. Liquid platinum cocktails after a hard day at the spa. It’s enough to fracture a nail just contemplating the strain of it.

Thanks to the likes of London's 'it' girls - Jagger, Ecclestone and Green, not to mention the Made In Chelsea massive - what was once safely confined to select postcodes of our fair city is now prolific throughout: air kisses are the new high-five; fake fur is the new LBD; and Dom Pérignon reserves are now officially on the endangered substances register.

However, there are benefits to this takeover. It’s not just high-street designer pair ups that give us lowly beings the chance to look as dubious as those who buy real Versace, but also bars and pubs, even if we can't fulfill the expected blue-blood door policy.In Notting Hill, for example, the above pictured Beach Blanket Babylon (or 'Bed Bath and Beyond' as I like to call it, to the horror of my well-to-do chums) gives you the chance to slum it like millionaires, all chintz, chandeliers and cocktails, and you can book a table at BBB using this handy form.

Venture to the hallowed ground of Chelsea proper, and you'll find the newly refurbished Hollywood Arms, proud purveyor of 'skinnytails', cocktails that come with a calorie count; including the tellingly-named 'Chelsea vs. Hoxton', a mixture of gin, fresh basil, raspberries, blackberries, agave and fresh lemon juice, and all at a mere 105kcal, in case you were wondering.It's not just for those watching their weight, mind; there's a fabulous menu to boot, from pepper-crusted fillet of venison with pickled mushrooms to fresh oysters and Ashbury game pie, this is posh without the price tag. And if you are feeling really, properly posh, treat your mates to a Darcy’s Lady: 6 shots of chilled Belvedere Bloody Mary, each topped with a floating oyster. It's all the rage in these parts. So Tatler tells me, sweetie.

No comments:

Post a comment