The secret garden

My friend Jon lives in a brick house so lush that we get really excited when we're invited for drinks and snacks.  My favourite part of the house, despite his attic room crammed from floor to ceiling with books, cds and movies, is the garden.  It's one of the first real "English" gardens I've seen here, or at least, the first garden I've seen that complies with all my childhood visions of the English fairytale back yard.

The house opens right out onto the road, so it's a huge surprise when one is led around the sight and into a quiet, scented green tangle, quite tucked away from the rest of the world.

I imagine that if you press back the vines and creepers, the little stone or wought-iron lizards sneaking beneath them will suddenly come to life and flee with flicking tails.

We were invited for a garden party a couple of weeks ago, and I wore a casual, comfortable outfit conducive to stuffing my face.

Tied-waist blouse and brogues - New Look.

Pants - Zara.  Necklace - Made by mother.  Sunnies - Primark.  

Bangle - Vintage.

This summer blouse that ties at the waist is made of the thinnest, smoothest cotton, so light it's like wearing a cloud.  The photos (and my terrible posture) don't do it justice!

Photos of me by Shriya

And of course, what would such a gathering be without the food, artfully put together by Jon and his parents?  We had a hell of a time running in and out of the massive kitchen, complete with a rustic island at one end and an actual iron stove at the other.  At one point, my friends Gruff, Tori, Hilary and I actually gathered round and performed a loud (and squiffy) acapella rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody.  There is footage of it, but if I show you, I'll have to kill you.

Despite all the mad laughter, running around and the copious amounts of food...

... even I got a little distracted.