MeMoi ?!

Monocle. Keeping an eye on the world. I just wish, like my mother, I had one at the back of my head. But more on that later..

In search of clues for the opening date of my favourite magazines new cafe, months of wild detours and many pops into the Monocle shop later. The date is April 8th and I’m finally here, in the centre of cool.

Greeted by bearded beauties, not remotely emasculated by their little criss-crossed aprons, merely basking in the glow of the low hanging lights; halos to these hunks, I ordered an espresso. 

While they prepared my neat little tray, a square of chocolate included, I explored the downstairs. Well worth the vertically challenging descent. A floor filled with possibilities, inspiration for even the most creatively lacking individual. A nagging ticket to Tokyo. 

And the loo, a must skip to! An education in itself; options such as ‘wand cleaner’, ‘seat warmer’, an entire panel of exciting buttons and flashing lights await you. Should your coffee date be rather more bla bla than ha ha, you could lose a good few minutes in the room of rest.

Moving back upstairs, now in absolute empathy with my brother who climbed Kilimanjaro, I set up camp amongst the soft furnishings. Tray table to my right, the wall against my back, I’m wondering if the paint’s still wet. Though that should be the least of my worries! Transported to club cool, a sea of turned up trousers and statement socks, I was awoken with quite an awakening. More effective than my coffee, a large bang on my head followed by a tremendous crash on my tray table, it took me a moment to realise that a weighty canvas had landed and slid down my shiny hair.

Gaining consciousness I regretted my longing for Monocle heaven. For the reality made my heart beat much too much for a Monday morning, and the work I needed to complete for the day required every one of my (now depleted) brain cells.

*Note to Tyler, I was expecting the crème de la crème, Brûlé, to be knocked out by Monocle cafe, just not literally!