Postcard from the UK

When London calls, I've learned it's best to answer! The occasion: my brother's high school graduation. In honor of the trip, I dug through the Silver Lining archives to find this gem of me and Rel holding a wee baby Ian, who, in what feels like the blink of an eye, has transformed into quite the dapper gent!

Packing was a breeze. London = layers, and my Woolf Field Coat and Crossed Lines scarf would be the perfect toppers for inclement weather...

... and then of course the temperature skewed in the opposite direction. It ended up being hotter in London than at home in Los Angeles! That's some classic British humor for you.

My lack of Silver Lining style was made up for in spades by my brother's various looks. As school captain, he had to attend several commemorative events, and he brought his A-game with bespoke suits, cufflinks, bow ties and even Vivian Westwood shoes, paired with contrasting socks, no less. (What do British men love more than wearing eccentric socks? Gifting them! Just ask my husband.)

Heat aside, late June in London is glorious. It's all about the flowers and the back garden didn't disappoint.

Between graduation events, I got a chance to stroll around London. From the North I took in a great vista from Primrose Hill. Borough Market in the south provided an ant's eye view of the London Shard, a recent addition to the skyline designed by Renzo Piano and which also happens to be the tallest building in Europe. A boat on the Thames was a prime vantage point for snapping the London Eye, a very slow moving enclosed Ferris Wheel.

I would be remiss not to mention my 3-year-old traveling companion, who absorbed the historic tales of gruesome beheadings and epic battles with great gusto. In fact, half way through our trip he transformed into a young knight, which made me feel a lot safer walking the city streets.

We ended our trip with a joyride in Dorothy, a lovely 1949 Triumph Roadster. Classic cars are quite the thing, and it is proper etiquette (so I'm told) to wave to pedestrians, which gave me a new found respect for the Queen's biceps. Cheers London! Until next time—toot toot!