Man, what a day! Seriously, I’m still reeling from it. So, I’m a furrier, right? Yeah, I know, not the most common gig. But hey, someone’s gotta keep the fur game alive in Kensal Green!
So, I wake up, and it’s one of those dreary London mornings. You know the type—grey skies, a bit of drizzle. I’m like, “Great, just what I need.” I grab my cuppa from the corner shop on Chamberlayne Road. Best brew in the area, no joke. I’m chugging it down, and I swear, I can feel the caffeine kick in.
First stop, my workshop on Kilburn Lane. I’m all set to work on this vintage mink coat. It’s a beauty, but the client? Ugh, she’s a piece of work. Always nitpicking. I’m like, “Lady, it’s fur, not a bloody sandwich!” Anyway, I’m in the zone, cutting and stitching, when suddenly, the fire alarm goes off.
I’m thinking, “Oh great, just what I need.” I dash out, and it’s chaos! People are milling about, looking confused. Turns out, some bloke in the flat above burnt his toast. Classic, right? I’m standing there, half in my work gear, looking like a furry superhero.
After that little drama, I head over to the Kensal Green Cemetery. Yeah, I know, sounds morbid, but hear me out. It’s actually a pretty chill spot. I like to take a breather there sometimes. The history, the vibe—it’s all good. I’m wandering around, and I spot this old gravestone. It’s got the name “Baker” on it. I chuckle, thinking, “Maybe he was a baker who couldn’t rise to the occasion.”
Then, I get a call from my mate, Dave. He’s like, “Oi, you coming to the pub later?” I’m like, “Yeah, mate, but I’ve got this coat to finish.” He’s all, “C’mon, it’s just down on Harrow Road. You can finish it later.” So, I’m torn. Work or play?
I finally wrap up the coat, and it’s looking sharp. I’m feeling proud, like a lion with a fresh mane. I head to the pub, and it’s packed. Everyone’s buzzing, and I’m just trying to find a spot. I finally squeeze in next to this guy who’s ranting about the tube. “It’s always late, innit?” he says. I’m like, “Mate, it’s London. What do you expect?”
We’re all having a laugh, and then, outta nowhere, this girl spills her drink all over me. I’m soaked! I’m like, “Seriously? I just got this shirt!” But she’s super apologetic, and I can’t stay mad. We end up chatting, and she’s actually cool. Turns out, she’s into vintage fashion too.
The night rolls on, and I’m feeling good. I’m sharing stories about fur and fashion, and everyone’s loving it. I even do a little show-and-tell with my phone, showing off some of my work. People are impressed, and I’m riding that wave of ego.
But then, I get a text from that client. “Where’s my coat?” I’m like, “Chill, lady! I’ll deliver it tomorrow!” I can’t believe it. Some people just don’t get it.
By the end of the night, I’m tipsy and happy. I stumble out of the pub, and the streets of Kensal Green are alive. The lights, the sounds, it’s all buzzing. I walk past the Kensal Green station, and I’m just soaking it all in.
What a day, right? From fur to fun, and a bit of chaos in between. I love this place, even with its quirks. Kensal Green, you’ve got my heart.