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Asos french bulldog jumper (I KNOW): £22. Debenhams jeans. Cath Kidston ric rac mug. Look of pure sugar-enthused delight: c/o Bettys Tea Rooms.
Me and Bettys, we go waaay back. I have no photographic evidence - shock! horror! - but I visited back in 2011 when visiting my friend Sam in York for the first time. Having zero money as students with poor life choices (we went to Willow in York - need I say more?), we shared an afternoon tea for one downstairs in the St Helen's Square team room (on the map, above) and decided that was quite enough cute for the weekend. Fast forward four years and my days have been sorrowfully Bettys-free, until an email arrived in my inbox which I replied to quick enough to give me indigestion: Bettys was popping up in Islington for one day only.
As someone who actively avoids heading into town/into full-blown pollution clouds on the weekend, it was a welcome change to my usual trips on the train as I could amble along to meet Charlotte to take these photos before heading over to the venue. Popping to Bettys was like stepping into your best friend's; plenty of smiles and plenty of sweet treats. We started off the day by learning how to ice our own french fancies before prepping for the ultimate afternoon tea/flat lay situation. It was definitely more hands on than my previous Bettys experience, but who'd mind mucking in when there are mousse mice to be eaten? The sugar crush was warded off when I got home by getting changed into my new favourite jumper (two words: French. Bulldog.) and having a little read through the 'Who's Betty?' selection of short stories.
Because, if anything's my cup of tea, it's a good slice of cake (heh).
As someone who actively avoids heading into town/into full-blown pollution clouds on the weekend, it was a welcome change to my usual trips on the train as I could amble along to meet Charlotte to take these photos before heading over to the venue. Popping to Bettys was like stepping into your best friend's; plenty of smiles and plenty of sweet treats. We started off the day by learning how to ice our own french fancies before prepping for the ultimate afternoon tea/flat lay situation. It was definitely more hands on than my previous Bettys experience, but who'd mind mucking in when there are mousse mice to be eaten? The sugar crush was warded off when I got home by getting changed into my new favourite jumper (two words: French. Bulldog.) and having a little read through the 'Who's Betty?' selection of short stories.
Because, if anything's my cup of tea, it's a good slice of cake (heh).
