NO city’s image is more at odds with the reality than London. So many Aussies flock to the capital with raised expectations only to encounter disappointment.
I relocated from Sydney to London to study my masters and I underestimated how demanding the degree would be.
London’s not very nice to its people and the locals by default are permanently petulant and irritated.
Each morning I stand on the icy, marbled floor of my bathroom and hope for some lukewarm water to come out of the tap.
I need it to water down my MAC Studio Fix foundation. My mascara gets the same treatment. Why? Because if you’re too skint to buy makeup, you’re left with only one viable option — add water.
Additionally, my mascara is doubling as eyeliner and I am now forcibly pinching my cheeks. The result? Kate Moss, circa 2014, stumbling out of a Mayfair club with smeared red lips, perspired foundation and smudged mascara.
Regardless, I know this diluted makeup is better than nothing.
Fortified with coffee and digestive biscuits, I’m ready to head out. I’m currently selling ovens for six pounds (about $A9.85) an hour at a design expo across town.
It’s a 35-minute tube ride or a 6.4km walk. I set off an hour and a half early to try and make it on time. I can’t afford the tube fare.