Cheap eats in Soho, a goat coat and a lie in

What bliss! I turned over and blearily peered at the alarm, turned obediently towards the wall by a departing Tom, who buggered off at midnight, remembering the light it projects bothers me. It was 8.30am. I’ve not had a lie in till 8.30 for weeks. Months. Unless you count the Saturday I crawled in at 8 and slept fitfully til 3.00 – THE KIDS WERE OBVIOUSLY AWAY THAT WEEKEND – (when I call myself Reprobate Mum, I do still mean wholly responsible. It’s more about mentality than actual neglect, but I should reinforce this point on this public space – even though given half a chance I like to have some fun.)

The house is strangely silent. Could it be my children are still asleep? There has been no thud overhead. No clang as the toilet seat erupts at last minute. Impossible. Perhaps, they have taken heed of my increasingly stern warning that pocket money would be sanctioned if they carried on with their usual early morning weekend clatter. Who knows? For now, who cares. I feel brilliant. My skin is dewy – the eruptions of the past fortnight have cleared and my eyes, still puffy from sleep, are at least not hollow with shadows.

My first night out sans alcool went well. I was home at 8 (pm this time) with only one silly purchase (a goat coat, bought for less than 50 squids at one of those cheapy tourist shops at the arse end of Oxford Street – well it IS getting colder) and a belly full of dumplings eaten with my mate Sam, who I’ve been ignoring for months. He’s on the wagon too. And on a diet, which is a dry enough combination to question why bother? But now I’m in the same boat, we had a magical time, wandering round Liberties, trying on scented nail polish from Nancy’s Nails (bless her, I watched the programme this week and she was so excited to have her products featured, but it kinda just smells like sweet nail polish – and is it a good idea to get kids sniffing nail polish), fell in love with a £200 scarf from Lily and Lionel (if you’re listening Tom, it’s got big print roses on it and matches my dark green leather jacket), although the darked haired scarf girl from the telly show was less than helpful in trying to find one that matches my olive bag, pulling out two which can only be described as grotesque –  and sprayed myself with perfume to the annoyance of the people behind the counter. Yes, I was that kind of shopper. Even now I have a bit of money to spend, I’ve so subsumed my own needs and desires over the years, I don’t actually want anything very much anymore. I certainly don’t have occasion to wear particularly flashy clothes, and I’ve learned to be savvy enough where to find cut price alternatives the Roman Road for starters) and still look fairly OK most of the time.

I scoffed at a giant £150 advent calendar filled with mini beauty products – nice idea if you have a spoilt teenager, but honestly, who has that much time in the morning to be surprised every day up till Christmas –  I take much more pleasure accumulating bits and pieces for the kids than I ever do shopping for myself (I am, however, seriously considering a Lego Advent Calendar this year, if only to stop them going to school on a chocolate fuelled sugar rush.,But unfortunately they don’t do a Minecraft advent calendar, althiugh they have got various different sets.Jonah and Ava have really got into Minecraft Lego recently, having bought a set with their pocket money (£5.00 a week if they do the dishwasher and walk the dog with no fuss and go to clubs on a Monday) which is just about the only physical toy they will play with at the moment, so it’s a trend I’m going to encourage for Christmas.

I was intrigued by the Aurelia Skincare range on display in the beauty hall, which, having been given a sample of the dry body oil in my Mumsnet Bloggers Network gift pack, and which is responsible for today’s glow (yes I used it on my face, so what?) because with all the acne products and anti-bacterials I’ve used over the years, I’ve been on the look out for skin probiotics  rather than stinky kefir that I have been known to smear on my face – it may  be a gimmick, but all the products smell gorgeous, are 100% organic (don’t quote me on that) and are pretty, if not a little pricey given my usual routine of olive oil, rose water and tree tree. (Tom – he never reads this anymore but on the off chance – I’d def go a Miracle Cleaner at £35 odd quid, if you want a happy RM come Christmas morning).

We wandered up Carnaby Street arm in arm, Sam telling me about his new job (we met as copywriters in our old jobs which we bonded over hating), feeling marginally festive at the lights, but basically I hate shopping and crowds.  Where we’d usually go for a drink to salve our social awkwardness, we went for an overpriced smoothie in Kingly Court, where I told him he shouldn’t drink soya milk because it would make his moobs grow bigger, and I got bored of the taste of my thin orange and cucumber one sat chilly outside, but hey, no hangover.

We looked around a few shops,  with me looking for clothes for Tom who rarely buys his own. A big parka in Replay was deemed too expensive at £350, and I scoffed at the assistant who walked away as soon as he told me the price – sorry do you think I can’t afford it?) I nearly bought it out of spite, but the furry hood looked a bit synthetic. I fingered a leopard print fur – real, £800; and bought a scarf, £25, for Reprobate Kate in her signature green, which I’ll give her on my birthday for hers in April so she can take back if she doesn’t like it, but the assistant couldn’t make eye contact, as I handed him my black Barclays premier card – a relic from Tom trader days, now sadly barely used except when I want to make a point to shop assistants.

Having mosied the streets and shops around Oxford Circus for a while (liking Banana Republic’s clean cut anti fashion for Tom, but it is ALL so expensive, even for a midrange shop. Urban Outfitters – flogging the same old tat as last year, Aquascutum – walked into by mistake, but there’s no WAY Jonah would EVER wear a bow tie or Ava, a beautiful little felt pinafore so it doesn’t matter that I couldn’t afford to buy anything), we sloped up Poland Street for a bite to eat, looking for Dim Sum but ending up in Keu (sorry – WordPress doesn’t do extra characters or accents) where we ate delicious bowls of beef dumplings (meatballs with fragrant rice and Pork Belly – bit gelatinous) and shared a Diet Coke, splitting the bills for less the £11 a-piece.

We headed towards Tottenham Road Station, where I spotted my goat coat by Jumpo at Retro London – nearly as soft at the fur leopard, but £40, and reasonably ethical (if you discount the Chinese sweatshop whence it no doubt came – a big argument for actual fur garments if ever there was one) where we parted ways (texting Tom erroneously, but aptly, en route to say I’d bought a goat) and went home to watch the strictly unethical X-factor, and to snarf cheese and raw onion in the absence of a glass of wine.

Now, there’s that distant thump overhead. I’d better go see about breakfast…