I’m back in England for the week.  Got here Monday night, picked up a car (watch out English drivers), spent the night in a hotel near Heathrow and got up and out at 5:30am Tuesday morning (which my body was saying was shortly after midnight and therefore screamed that I was moving in the wrong direction on the sleep thing.)  But off I went to an every other Tuesday butt crack of dawn market in the cold cold light of dawn (without brushing my hair I might add.)  And while I was hunting for some more of those great one of a kind antiques I love to sell, I saw these boots.  These big honking whiter than white boots.  The kind Barbara B wore in high school with her white jumpsuit.  The kind I wanted to wear so I could get to be 5’5″ and therefore automatically smoking HOT.  But “alas,” these boots were not in keeping with the design aesthetic at KnickKnack Paddywhack, and especially not with my preoccupation (ok, obsession) with “Downton Abbey” and all things at KnickKnack that are DA’esq.  Or maybe I’m just fooling myself…

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