Tuesday 24 March 2009

Harrods


Yesterday, I made my first visit to Harrods. Ok, so it wasn't exactly my first visit. I saw it several years ago when we stopped for three days in London, but all I remember from that particular visit was that we saw some overpriced blankets. Harrods is basically where you go if you've got lots and lots of money and wish to be rid of it.

In exploring the store, I discovered my dream bed. Yup, folks, this is the bed that I want when I grow up (and for those who say I am up, well, you're wrong). Except I want crimson sheets instead of the darker ones they've got on it, although I want the same gold pattern. The picture doesn't do it justice. It's beautiful in person, really. In fact, I think I might just go back to the store to visit it. And yes, I know that it costs £4,000. But alas, a girl can dream, just not in the bed she wants.

I was highly amused by this. They don't just have toilets, they have "Luxury Washrooms." I was quite thoroughly prepared to be cynical about this. After all, how 'luxury' could a public washroom really be? But again, I was forced to eat my words. There's actually a bathroom attendant, and a selection of fine perfumes/lotions available for your use after the deed. And actually, since there was a bottle of Chanel No. 5, and I had never actually smelled Chanel No. 5 before, I sprayed a little on. And then, feeling bad for not tipping the attendant (because standing in a bathroom all day can't be very much fun, no matter how nice the bathroom is), I left her a pound .... and she covered my entire coat in Chanel No. 5, which was really sweet of her, I think.
So now I smell really, really expensive wherever I go (seriously, my coat still smells like it). The moral of the story here?
Tip your bathroom attendants, boys and girls, because after all, they have to listen to you pee.

I took this photo because I loved that there was a room entirely devoted to writing. You can't see inside, but this room is loaded with extraordinarily expensive pens, as well as inkpots and other such silver/golden utensils that normal people don't really use anymore. Really, I saw a £2,000 pen. I'm sure it was a fabulous pen, but I think that even if I had the money to spare, I wouldn't buy one. I'd never use it, just because it was a £2,000 pen. I'd just pull it out to show people and keep saying things like "Would you believe this pen cost £2,000?" and I'm sure that would get annoying quickly.

There aren't actually any books in the writing room, although there is a separate stationery room (where, I was pleased to see, they sell Moleskine, among other things, including some journals I've also seen at Borders). If you feel the need to purchase a book with writing already in there for you, there's also a Waterstones inside of Harrods (which for you guys who don't know is a chain bookstore, like Borders or Barnes and Noble). Need something new to listen to while you're spending massive amounts of money? They've also got an HMV (which is a CD/DVD store) inside of Harrods.
By the way, I have to say that Harrods, out of all the stores I've been to, plays the weirdest mish-mosh of music I've heard in a while. I heard Bob Marley (Stir it up, I think), Britney Spears (a medley of her early work, for those who are curious), as well as that weird stupid techno that most stores insist on playing. Also, if you pay attention, the music is different in almost every room.

This is a sculpture in the seafood/meat area of the food halls. You can buy practically anything you can think of to eat. There's a Charcuterie, Fromagerie and Traiteur (still not exactly sure what those words mean, though), Fruit and Veggies, a Pantry, a Bakery, a Candy Shop, a Tea & Coffee shop, Confectionery & Patisserie, and Meat, Fish and Poultry. These are all in their own individual rooms, which are all beautifully (if somewhat gaudily) decorated, and in addition to the food halls, there are about two dozen restaurants/cafes in Harrods, with at least a few on each level (there are 7 levels).


This is the seafood bar immediately next to the sculpture in the photo before it.


This is the statue in the Egyptian room, which is entire decked out in Egyptian/middle easten designs. This pattern runs along the entire escalator well, also, through all seven levels.

I took this photo primarily to prove that they have a Champagne Bar inside the women's department. I wish we had a bar in the women's department back home. It'd definitely be a comfort when things don't fit (which is, I suspect, why it is so strategically located, so that the larger ladies can drown their sorrows in some Cristal).


This photo is from the pseudo-museum that they've got going on the third floor. There's a lot of lovely crystal/rock/fossil formations, complete with informative placards and obscene price tags. I took a photo of this one primariyly because of the price tag, which for those of you who can't see it, is £ 2,300.


I took this one for no other reason than I thought that the stone was beautiful. The color of the stone, which is Labradorite, comes from lamellar intergrowths within the crystal. The light enters the crystal and then refracts off of the internal layers, which is what makes it so pretty (and expensive).

Again, took this picture because I thought it was cool. This is an actual fossilized flower.



I took this one because of the obscene price tag that comes along with this lovely amethyst rock crystal, which you will see in the photo immediately below.




Ah, priceless memories. This is an actual fossilized lizard, selling for the bargain price of £2,350.



This guy was very nice. I primarily took a photo of him because he was, as you can tell, dressed in all green (you can't see, but his slacks are green too), and he rather reminded me of the guardian at the gates of the emerald city. I thought the image was also particularly appropriate for a doorman at Harrods, which is, I suppose, to many, a sort of Emerald city in itself.

2 comments:

  1. Darling, it's spelled Cristal. You immediately give away your plebeian upbringing if you misspell the name of the holy water of the rich and famous.

    ReplyDelete
  2. At least you knew what I was referring to. And there's nothing wrong with being plebeian. Viva la revolucion!

    ReplyDelete