After having had come to the place a few times, at rather odd times for a cafe to be open, I admit, and finding it closed, I finally got in on a lovely English summer day, one of those with just the right balance of warmth and cold, I am positive you can only experience these in this country, and it is one of the reasons why I have fallen in love with it.
But back to the Albion. The Beatnik's Albion. Hm.
No one was inside. No one really seemed to care. I suppose that would be the best way to characterise this place. No one cares. No one is trying to sell you anything. No one is contemplating ways of getting you out when you stay for too long to make space for another customer. No menus on the tables. No price lists. No 'Can I help you?', or 'Anything else?'.
I browse through the bookshelves for a while, picking up some Fitzgerald, putting it back remembering that I will already hate myself when I try to drag my suitcase back home. (Giving it another thought now, what difference does one book make? I might come back for that book.)
'Can I have some coffee please?', I ask when I spot someone coming in from a back room.
'Weak or strong? It makes no difference.'
I thought I can't have come up with a better explanation of what the place is like than those two sentences I got as an answer.
Everyone should have at least one item in their wardrobe that is so bad that it's good. My wardrobe has quite a bunch of them, but this one is probably the worst (meaning best)... It's my yankii jacket, it looks especially amazing with fake gold chains, and a rude stare. (Yankii is a Japanese subculture of motorbike gangs, high school delinquents, smokers, and misspelled kanji, my big fascination.) I went for something a bit more classic here though, although when I say classic, a million other people probably say quirky... My sense of aesthetics is twisted. I love ugly pretty things.
'Comme des Fuckdown', 'Céline Me Alone', 'Feline Tokyo', I'm loving all the high end brand puns flooding the fashion market at the moment... and with a big cat face in the middle, this 'Versacrifice no. 666' top was love at first sight. More so when it's oversized, and a men's cut, and makes people come to you in a college bar explaining stuff about the Greek symbol of infinity...
The styling is probably a result of endless (quite literally) listening to CL's new solo song (Napun Gizibe, meaning Bad Girl in Korean, hence the title of this post), as well as my recent joining of the Oxford University Cat Society. (I can now add the position of 'chief of propaganda' on my CV, what is Oxford.)
One of my recently acquired hobbies is exploring new coffee shops, all I ever spend money on these days are basically coffee and food... These pictures were taken on a rainy Sunday, which I spent in the corner of a cafe with my new 'Bible', the book that replaced The Picture of Dorian Gray on my bedside table. It's a collection of short stories by one of my favourite musicians, and pretty much my favourite artist ever, Tablo.
I've come to prefer the personality of books, rather than the story in them. For me characters, sceneries, feelings, and thoughts are much more important than the plot. Now that I think of it, I wonder if it's the same in real life.
Ever since I first saw this Kayla Mattes crop top, I knew I had to have it. What better manifesto of my life than a print containing cats and internet on a piece of oversized clothing...But instead of expressing my love for this top with words, I will just flood this post with cat gifs and hope you're all in public places while making all these socially unacceptable noises as you look at them. (Because I can.)