Good coat, dead eyes, phone already out. I do it too. The city rewards looking sorted. It never even asks if you even slept tonight.
Tag: tube
Warehouse face off, night face on, sometimes both in one single day. This city lets you be two people if your makeup bag keeps up.
One good evening and everyone acts like we made it here. Then the tube is a greenhouse and I remember all of the usual moaning.
The tube becomes a greenhouse and manners melt. I still put product on. Looking done is how I refuse to let London see me wilt.