Saturday, October 2, 2010

Harrod's, London

I worked across from Harrods when I lived in London a quarter century ago. It was one of those places a young man could wander about at lunch hour and dream.
All I ever bought was my first Fox Umbrella there, a necessity in London, and supposedly the finest umbrella in the world. I lusted after the leather bound books that caught my attention then. Today I looked at the collection and laughed thinking how easily I could afford one today when now I'm downloading books to Kindle. I simply don't have a life where a library of leather bound books would live secure. I much prefer reading contemporary authors today on my Ipad.
Laura loved Harrods. And yes I bought another Fox umbrella myself. We loved the gift ware section. The Egyptian Escalator is it's own wonder. So sophisticated. The owner of Harrods son was with Lady Di the night she died. The parents created a shrine for the two. That now resides by the Egyptian Escalator. Chanel, Prada, Burberry, Louis Voutton, Fendi all are well represented. What's so much fun about Harrod's though is that something quite reasonable and affordable resides beside something wholly over the top that clearly the rich can afford but mere mortals like I couldn't. Yet I can buy the other one and feel at least smug in my lack of pretention. It is from Harrods, though, I still can imagine Mrs. Bucket (Bouquet) saying in that wonderful English sit com. The whole ambience of Harrod's is such that leaving money there seems the right thing to do. Of course I'm in love with my new umbrella and Laura waxes poetic about her latest handbag.

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