I lived in London for four years back in, oh, the early 1800s, and I’d been back a few times since I moved home but not for about five years. I was pretty excited to head there on a work trip to LFW last month for a few days.

But this time I had a real ‘you know you’re old’ moment when instead of checking into my hotel and bailing straight for Topshop, or even Selfridges or Liberty, all I wanted to do was go to Graham & Greene, a homewares store in Ladbroke Grove whose stuff I’ve always lusted after in Brit house mags, and who - so annoyingly - don’t ship to Australia.

I wasn’t disappointed: it was all of my housey dreams come true. Except I realised once there that of course I still couldn’t bring much home. But it was totes inspiring and at least I got some good (cheap!) gypsy cushions to mix it up on a bit on the sofa.

Along with the holy trinity mentioned above - Topshop, Selfridges and especially Liberty (my happy place) - I remembered why London actually kills NY when it comes to shopping. And Sydney? Ptth. We’re just the Aldi of the shopping world.

House Rules

Milo and I woke up early this morning and did a little in-bed online shopping for our new house (moving next week, god help me). Later, I hear him telling Iggy about these awesome Alexandra Ferguson cushions we’d bought on Etsy for the daybed in their new playroom.

“One says ‘No Fighting’ so we don’t fight in our new playroom. And one says ‘No Whining’ so that adults don’t drink alcohol in our play room.”

Lucky I didn’t buy it for the living room.