(1.) Kayyam by Osborne and Little (2.) Dots and Ladybirds by Lisbeth Dahl (3.) Bloomsbury walking umbrella by Fulton (4.) Cotswold Walker by Radley (5.) Orla Kieley Tulip (6.) Cath Kidston Spot Red and Navy
I’ve never managed to keep an umbrella longer than a year – they’d always get lost on the tube or the bus, or left behind at a restaurant. So many beauties gifted to lucky strangers over the years.
I often wonder about umbrella etiquette.
Is there such a thing?
Are you ever alarmed when a closed-umbrella-toting-person walks along with the handle facing downwards and forwards, the pointy base spike projecting upwards behind them, jauntily aiming up and down backwards and forwards with each step they take. They could poke a child’s eye out!
Or is it just me?
Then, when it’s actually raining and everyone has them up, in, say, Oxford Street it’s quite a job to avoid all the little spikey spokes of similar-heighted persons’ umbrellas. Unless of course they raise their umbrella to avoid you, or angle it sideways, invariably swiping a fellow pedestrian or their umbrella along the way. They apologise or hurry by, their umbrella awkwardly buffeting against the still-chilly British April wind. On the bus people try not to get too wet from all the dripping umbrellas assembled by everyone’s legs.
Organised people have an umbrella cover.
I am never one of those people. I have already lost my umbrella by now.
Having grown up in rainy old Auckland, I’d often walk around barefoot in the warm rain in my raincoat. In fact, I’m all for a good waterproof hat and raincoat for wet weather marching through the homeward-bound-worker-filled streets of London.
But, now we’re in the country and I have nowhere to lose an umbrella perhaps it’s time to consider one.
Really though, the only reason I’m even thinking about umbrellas right now is because I do so love the Kayyam umbrella (no. 1 above), part of the new Persian Garden collection from Osborne & Little. I can just see myself in an ancient persian garden, the Spring sun is gently shining, a warm breeze sways the date palms. I lie on a bed of plump velvet cushions, my Kayyam umbrella giving light shade… *sigh*.
Research tells me it’s a limited edition and only available at their Kings Road showroom. And that was in February. I think I’ve missed my chance. Perhaps in a parallel universe I’ve already owned it and left it behind on the number 24 bus on the way home from work for a lucky stranger to find and cherish.
Leave a Reply