mind the gap (between work emails)
Recapping a girls trip to London over MLK weekend
In the 104 weekends of the investment banking analyst program, plans can only be made tentatively as the ominous threat looms that your Saturdays and Sundays may be consumed by work. That is, unless you take PTO or have a holiday-protected weekend. As such, whenever time off materializes, I capitalize on it and make plans I could never commit to if the specter of an 18-hour Saturday still loomed: I book trips!
So for the long weekend celebrating Dr. MLK, this year, my girlfriends Elena, Sammy, Bailes, and I decamped to London for three days.
After a frenetic few work days, it felt surreal to step out of the office Thursday night and trade in my banker bag for my neatly packed Rimowa cabin. I excitedly rushed to JFK for a red-eye to LHR. I closed my eyes right before take-off and when I opened them discovered it was only ~40 minutes til landing - God I love when this happens. Touching down at Heathrow always feels a bit like coming home. (For those unaware, London is where I was born and raised and spent the first decade of my life.)
I took the Heathrow Express to Paddington and then hopped into a taxi to our hotel accommodation at the Taj 51. Check-in came with a warm hand towel and a complimentary upgrade from a two-bedroom suite to a three-bedroom - score! I unpacked and freshened up as I waited for my girlfriends to arrive.
Once reunited, we commenced our Day 1 itinerary with a leisurely stroll down the iconic Kings Road. Lucky for us, typically rainy London was actually sunny and the perfect temperature for our layers of light furs and trenches. We popped by my old school, Garden House, and my childhood house, and of course ducked into a few shops. At 2pm, we headed to our reservation at Daphne’s - a classic Chelsea Italian spot. We had to toast the start of our trip with spritzes and settled in for a long lunch of roasted aubergine, rigatoni with veal ragu, and baby chicken. The food and drink were delicious, but the conversation even better, and we rose from lunch over three hours later! There’s something so marvelous (and seemingly European) about a long, unhurried lunch. We continued to meander and shop after lunch, with one favorite being Joseph, which carries its own line alongside an exquisite curation of designer pieces. (My mum says she built most of her wardrobe from this shop.)
Once home, we played music while getting ready for our dinner and first night out in London. That evening we were going to Maison Estelle, a members club in Mayfair by the team behind Estelle Manor. It’s a multiple-story Georgian townhouse transformed into restaurants, bars, workspaces, and a club. (One of Sammy’s childhood friends who moved to London post-grad graciously hosted the four of us!) They cover your phone upon entry so unfortunately no pics to show, but we had an awesome night there: dining at their Italian restaurant, then heading downstairs for drinks, and down again to the “club.” The ambience and décor were moody and sophisticated, the drinks were flowing, the DJ spun vibey house beats, and the crowd was impeccably dressed and effortlessly cool. Given I moved away from London so young, I had actually never been “out” in London or experienced the nightlife scene, so getting a peek into the members club world that dominates the city’s social life was such a treat.
The next day we woke up bright and… late. Our previous night’s escapades had us returning home well past our bedtime, and coupled with the jet lag, we snoozed until noon. But hey, it’s vacation! We hydrated, got ready, and then hopped into a taxi to Portobello Road. We picked up croissants and almond milk cappuccinos from Notting Hill Bakery and began our stroll past the vibrant markets and pastel-colored homes. Next, we entered vintage heaven, otherwise known as Lovers Lane Vintage. It feels more like a curated museum than a thrift shop, with each piece tagged with archival runway photographs and detailed provenance; descriptions like “one-of-a-kind hand-beaded Valentino gown from Marc Bohan’s tenure as creative director, featured in the 1987 Haute Couture collection.” The only downside? The prices match the pedigree, and most items retail for well above £1,000.
As Elena tried on various pieces for an impromptu fashion show, Sammy and I had a rather unique experience. As we sat waiting for her to model, the store owner began to chat with us, and we ended up in an almost hour-long conversation about the store’s origins and exchanging life stories. She was one of the coolest people I’ve met. She started collecting when she was 20, modeled for Wilhelmina, ran an interior design store in LA that was featured in Architectural Digest, and moved to London nearly 20 years ago where her husband’s from. Now, approaching 60, she works the store full-time purely for the love of it. She sources pieces exclusively from fellow collectors or original owners and is incredibly meticulous, she explained, about verifying how many times each garment has been worn, its provenance, and condition. It was also so refreshing to realize she wasn’t conversing with us merely to make a sale; she actually told us she has unfavorable Google reviews from people calling her the “mean old lady” because she candidly admits when an item doesn’t work or fit someone and recommends they save their money. What a stark contrast to sales associates in the US lol! So here I am debunking the “Google reviews”, she was an absolute joy, and I hope I can be as chic as her - in her Chanel tights, long-sleeve fur coat worn as a dress, and hair swept into a perfect French twist - when I’m 60. She offered recommendations for other shops and destination. We blew her kisses goodbye.
We put our credit cards to work as we roamed Westbourne Grove, and then as the sun began to set, we made our way to The Pelican for pints. The pub was packed and boisterous inside, but we snagged a table right outside, and four pale ales were soon in hand. We shared stories and laughter as we got pleasantly beer-drunk, then cabbed back home to begin getting ready for night two.
Saturday night we met Elena’s parents and sister, Nikki, who were also in London that weekend, for drinks at The Fluke in Mayfair. It was an adorable bar with whimsical patterned wallpaper, and we all ordered the “Espresso Bongo” while gushing about all the fun we’d had in London so far. The four of us and Nikki then walked to dinner at Ambassadors Clubhouse, the sister restaurant to the Michelin-starred Gymkhana. We met another Duke friend, Willa, who lives in London now, and the six of us ordered a sumptuous feast of fragrant Indian curries, pillowy naan, creamy daal, and aromatic lamb biryani. Though we had planned on pub hopping afterward, we ended up ordering masala chai instead of another round of cocktails, and continued to chatter until the restaurant was literally closing down around us.
On day 3, we explored Mayfair and Marylebone. We all made purchases at Paloma Wool, got our coffee fix at the most charming little café called Abuelo, and perused the eclectic trinkets at home décor boutique Anna + Nina. We next made a mandatory stop at Daunt Books and ended up trading little synopses of books on display we had read and loved, read and hated, or those we wanted to read.
For our cultural fix, we headed to the Wallace Collection, a national museum housed in a historic townhouse and with free admission (!). The rooms were breathtaking, each decorated in a different color and filled with masterpieces of French 18th-century paintings, furniture, arms and armor, and Sèvres porcelain. The collection features works by Old Masters including Titian, Rembrandt, and Velázquez. My favorite was Fragonard’s “The Swing” (1767), and if you want to read more on this check out my art instagram account @the.mod.edit with post linked here.
Next, we headed to Claridge’s for afternoon tea. The Art Deco setting is divine, and the finger sandwiches, warm scones with clotted cream and jam, and cold pours of champagne were exactly what we needed after hours of walking. After our teacups had been refilled many times over and our appetites satisfied, we settled the bill and made our last stop of the day at Harrods. The brisk stroll across Hyde Park en route was just what we needed to work off the many, many scones. We browsed the department store and tried on sunglasses until it grew eerily quiet and we realized the store was closing down and it was time for us to find an exit!
For our last supper, we returned to Notting Hill for the Greek restaurant Zephyr. Pre-dinner, they have a bar downstairs called “Naked & Famous” set in a moody crimson-lit space with a DJ spinning. They have a small but intriguing menu featuring two specialty “shots.” We said YOLO on our last night and ordered a round of the “Red Flag shots” in addition to our array of cocktails: whiskey sours and spicy mules. When our table was ready, we were escorted upstairs and had an amazing meal of warm pitas with spreads, beans, fish and vegetables, and a heavenly truffle mushroom orzo. We ordered a bottle of French white, and to close the meal, a “burnt olive oil cheesecake”, which may dethrone the Salzburg Nockerl as my favorite dessert ever. It was absolutely insane.
We spent our last night organizing for our Monday flights home and debriefing on what a fabulous and action-packed weekend we’d had. Sitting now on the plane back to NYC, I feel so grateful for these memories, the incredible friends I have, and my old home London, which I feel even more excited and hopeful will one day in the future be my home again. 2026, you are off to quite a magnificent start, and I hope you keep it up!
Hope you all enjoyed this read and your long weekend! Let me know what you got up to and if anyone wants to join me in moving to London in their late twenties / early 30s! XOXO
This is a dream!!! No one does a weekend trip like you
cutie