Of Bicester Village

It will probably not come as a surprise to any of you when I say that I like shopping. A lot. I must also admit that am also fairly picky about the people I shop with -- they need to share similar tastes, want to go into the same sort of places, be able to tell me the truth about whether something suits me (and to be able to take it when I return the favour), and have a shopping rhythm that works with mine (i.e. see stopping for frequent coffee breaks as a necessary part of the day). This might sound a little harsh, but believe me, I've learned the hard way. Good shopping companions are like gold dust, but luckily one of my friends here in Oxford is a kindred spirit, and today she and I spent a very happy time at Bicester Village, a shopping discount outlet which sells both designer and high end high street clothes at often massive discounts.

The clothes are usually surplus from the past season(s), but some of the shops do stock the latest lines, and I've found some amazing bargains there in the past. I was thrilled to be able to pick up this Diane von Furstenberg dress when I was there this summer, for example:

Today, Bicester was very festive, even in the drizzle, with Christmas music playing in several of the shops, and pretty lights and decorations all over. Even Porridge, as this chap is apparently known, was getting into the spirit of things:

In the morning, I introduced my friend to one of my favourite designers, Anne Fontaine. I was first taken to one of her shops by skirmishofwit, and have since become utterly addicted to her beautiful designs. Anne Fontaine produces stunning white and black shirts and blouses (although each collection also has an accent colour -- in the shop today it was a divine dark purple), and has more recently branched out into accessories, coats, and dresses. You can glimpse one of the latter in this unfortunately rather dark shot of the window display:

Another friend whom I introduced to Anne Fontaine last year bought one of her coats when we visited Bicester in the summer, and I must say I'm wildly envious. But the tops of hers I own are some of the favourite pieces in my wardrobe, and I always get complimented on them whenever I wear them. This is one I picked up at one of the Paris branches a couple of years ago, teamed with one of my well-loved pencil skirts:

I reserve it for special occasions (this was taken at the drinks before a lavish end of year dinner at New College eighteen months ago) -- as you can see from this close-up, it isn't the type of top you'd wear to pop to buy a pint of milk, but it adds a deliciously decadent edge to any big event:

This isn't a brilliant shot of another favourite, but you can see enough of the gorgeous pattern to see why I like it so much. It was one of the first ones I bought...

Although neither my friend nor I bought anything there today, we still enjoyed browsing through the racks, breathing in the delicious fragrance which perfumes all the Anne Fontaine stores (I bought a spritzer of her home spray when I was there in the summer: lovely). After pottering around a few of the other stores, we decided the time had come for lunch. Luckily there is a branch of the always reliable Carluccio's at Bicester, so we headed there.

I opted for a delicious and warming lasagna, my friend for a yummy looking Swiss chard and pork soup, and we both finished off with a delectable Cioccolata Fiorentina:

After this, we felt ready to hit the shops once more, and enjoyed ourselves immensely among the likes of Max Mara and Valentino. We particularly liked oohing and aahing over the stunning ballgowns in the latter...

... while I also fell utterly in love with this bag while we were in there, but even at sale price it was beyond the reach of the contents of my current purse:

At the end of the afternoon, we caught the bus home (Bicester is conveniently -- and dangerously -- only a twenty minute ride away from Oxford), both empty-handed (I know! The shock!) but happily exhausted after a very enjoyable day. We're definitely going to be trying our luck there again next year, for, as Sir W said in his 1600 essay 'Of Entertainment',

'I have a purse, and a life',

and what better place than Bicester to use them!

Of Being Tempted To Exercise

Anyone who knows me, knows that Exercise and I are not exactly soul mates. When I was younger, I was - amazingly - actually pretty sporty: I swam, played badminton, went horse-riding, and even learned how to do backwards somersaults on the trampoline. Heady days indeed. And how long ago they seem! After I became ill with M.E. at the age of fourteen, exercise was out of the question - for a long while I barely had enough energy to move from bed to the sofa. To be fair, a lot of the activities had stopped earlier ... but my illness really put the kibosh on any that remained. Thankfully, since I started university, my health has (touch wood), basically been fine, but even though I'd now count myself as pretty well completely recovered, somehow I've never quite managed to recapture that childhood enthusiasm for sporting activities... 

Even when I was younger, I was never a fan of team sport (well, I played netball for a while, but I think that was just because I liked the little pleated skirt you got to wear), and I have to confess to skipping the descriptions of hockey matches and tennis tournaments in the school stories of my childhood. All that whacking sticks around in the mud never quite appealed, and I think I just have an innate horror of anything requiring a gum-shield. Even quidditch never fired my imagination - I always thought that the beginning of Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire would have been vastly improved by a fat red pen slicing through 90% of the description of the World Cup.

I did, however, go for a while to pilates classes, and then did a term of yoga in my third year as an undergrad, which I actually really enjoyed. Unfortunately, when the enthusiastic American friend who came to yoga with me went back across the pond, I never quite made it to classes on my own the following year. But I've been thinking recently that with the amount of time I spend sitting hunched over a desk, if I don't want to end up a wizened old woman with a hump by the time I'm 30, I should probably do something about it. And recently I came across an excellent added incentive in this divine yoga mat and kit bag. The line has just been introduced by the wonderful oGorgeous:

Now, this is really my kind of exercise bag! The bags came to my attention thanks to a feature on the fabulous style and lifestyle blog Modish, and they come in various designs, although the one with the bow (rather aptly called Fashionista) is far and away my favourite. It would go so nicely with my current handbag... If anything is going to inspire me to find a new yoga class, this is it!

And as Sir W, in his essay 'Of Life, and the Fashions of Life' (1600) reminds me, when I enjoy Good Food as much as I do, a little exercise once in a while may not be such a bad thing...

'I am afraid our much Eating, and little Exercise, is the cause of this our lowe flying, and heauinesse: our many Crudities send vp dull heauy vapours, that makes vs like better of a bed, then of a saddle.'