Cath Kidston tiny London

I got caught not once but twice, two days running, out and about with the boy and no umbrella in torrential weather. The first time I managed to shelter under a tree in Gordon Square and then The Guardian Reader had to come an rescue me from under another tree in Bedford Square. The following day I was in John Lewis shopping for printer ink when the heavens opened. There was acrescendo of noise in the central atrium above the escalator as thunder and lightening and a hailstorm crashed on the glass roof. The ceiling in the basement Food Hall was even leaking. I cracked and purchased an umbrella of my own, a very small umbrella, that at a push could fit in my very small bag, but also hangs from my wrist. It's the Cath Kidston London print. Erbie and I made it back dry, if you can picture a mad mother running with a bare-footed child on her hip between cafe awnings and doorways clutching a very small, very flimsy but pretty umbrella.


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