London in Motion, Social Buzz & Embracing the Chaos

February has arrived—winter still clinging on like a slightly-too-long guest at the dinner party—but London is slowly stirring from its seasonal stupor. The shift is subtle, almost imperceptible at first: golden-hour light creeping past 4PM, cafés buzzing just a touch louder, and people once again daring to linger outside with their coffees instead of dashing off in a blur of scarves and complaints.

I’ve been leaning into the rhythm of it all—gently, without pressure. Some days feel full-throttle, others still slow and foggy, but I’m moving with the city, not against it. Work is picking up, social plans are reappearing on the calendar with their usual enthusiasm, and yes, the occasional existential wobble about where my life is headed this year continues to sneak in (uninvited, as always). Standard. But instead of letting those questions take over, I’ve been trying to live more inside the moments. That’s something 2022 is teaching me already—slow down, stay open, and let things unfold without a five-step plan.

City Life: The Return of a Proper Social Calendar

January was one big collective nap, let’s be honest. A blur of failed detoxes, aspirational journaling, and oat milk consumption bordering on addiction. But February? It’s the great social defrost. Plans are being made again, people are texting back, and I’m finally wearing lipstick that’s not just for Zoom.

Some recent highlights:

• Dinner at Cecconi’s with Liv—classic girls’ night breakdown of her latest Hinge encounters. Truffle pasta, two Negronis, and a lot of chaotic energy. We ended the night promising to “do this more often,” knowing full well we’d be rescheduling twice before it actually happens.

• A failed attempt at being ‘casual’ at Chiltern Firehouse—the plan was “just one drink,” and naturally, I left at 2AM in someone else’s jacket. Zero regrets, except for the part where I lost my earring.

• Weekend brunch at Granger & Co., still elite in the pancake department, though my tolerance for standing in a queue longer than a Taylor Swift ticket line is wearing thin. I had to remind myself that good things—like ricotta hotcakes—require patience.

• An impromptu museum afternoon at Tate Modern, because I needed to feel like I was more than a content-consuming machine. Also, there’s something romantic about wandering galleries alone with a half-drunk coffee and no one to tell you to move faster. I felt like the main character in an art house film, with slightly better eyebrows.

  
  

Also: London in late winter remains the ultimate fashion mystery. Half the crowd is still in thermals, the other half has already broken out the bare ankles. The streets are a catwalk of contradictions—scarves paired with sunglasses, pea coats over activewear. I’m somewhere in the middle, overthinking every outfit and refusing to take off my coat until April.s.

Style: The ‘Trying to Look Put Together’ Edit

Wardrobe-wise, it’s all about illusions. I want to look composed, even if I’m internally spiralling over my calendar and to-do list. It’s the season of faking it until you feel it—just with better fabrics and a perfectly cut trouser.

My current rotation:

• Oversized wool coats that say ‘I’m thriving,’ even if I forgot breakfast and my socks don’t match.

• Tailored trousers that do 90% of the visual heavy lifting. A wide-leg moment with a tucked-in knit = foolproof.

• Cashmere everything—I deserve to be warm and soft. Especially when I’m mentally re-editing an email I sent two hours ago.

• Chunky boots with just the right amount of stomp. Paired with a sleek structured handbag to balance the chaos. I like to think of it as ‘editor at large’ meets ‘recovering perfectionist.’

• Nails in almond beige or soft taupe. The official shades of ‘I have my life together,’ whether I do or not.

• Gold hoops—tiny but mighty. If I’m in a rush and slap those on, suddenly it’s an outfit. Somehow, they add instant polish—even when I’m late.

  
  

Also: I’m deeply into the quiet luxury aesthetic with an edge. Masculine silhouettes layered with femme fabrics, silk with structure. I dress how I want to feel—anchored, elegant, and ready for whatever plot twist the day brings.

Wellness: The Softest Routine Possible

Wellness this month isn’t about extremes. It’s about recovery. Regulation. Restoring some balance after January’s exhausting optimism. If 2021 was about powering through, 2022 is asking for softness. Permission to not be in performance mode all the time.

Here’s what’s actually working:

• Movement that feels good—not punishing. Pilates is queen. I’m still doing gym sessions, but only when the vibe is right. I’m choosing workouts based on energy, not guilt.

• Hydration over hustle. I’m giving my nervous system a hug every time I refill my glass. The ritual of drinking water has become oddly grounding.

• Skin-first, low-fuss beauty. A quick cleanse, layers of moisture, and SPF. That’s it. If I add a bit of highlighter and brow gel, I’m basically glowing—even if I’ve barely slept.

• Less caffeine. Or, at least, more intention around when and why. The first flat white of the day still hits like a spiritual awakening, but I’m cutting off after noon… most days. (Okay, some days.)

• Prioritising sleep—sort of. My intentions are noble, but plans are seductive. Still, I’m trying to build better wind-down rituals. Less scrolling, more reading. Or at least pretending to read while I fall asleep mid-chapter.

  
  

What’s grounding me most, though, is treating wellness as a way of living, not a checklist. Listening to my needs, letting rest be restorative instead of guilt-ridden, and finding small ways to honour my energy without always expecting productivity in return.

Mindset: Taking Things as They Come

Mentally, I’m craving flexibility. I don’t want to force outcomes. I don’t want to over-plan. I want to be surprised by what unfolds when I stop gripping the steering wheel so tightly. There’s a certain magic in surrender, and this month, I’m trying to let it in.

This month, I’m focusing on:

• More saying yes—spontaneously. Not everything needs to be pencilled in three weeks in advance. If someone invites me out for a drink, I’m saying yes—even if I’m already in loungewear.

• More letting London’s energy carry me. The buzz of strangers, the rhythm of the tube, the sound of laughter in wine bars. It’s all fuel. I’m letting the city guide me instead of trying to outpace it.

• Less guilt about downtime. Rest isn’t laziness, it’s necessary. I’m learning to value it. Even when it’s unproductive. Even when it feels indulgent.

• Tuning into small joys—a warm pastry on a cold walk, a book that makes me forget my phone exists, a friend’s voice note that turns my day around. These are the moments I want more of. The ones that don’t make the highlight reel but matter anyway.

  
  

Also: I’m trying not to count down to spring. I’m letting the end of winter stretch, and I’m meeting it with curiosity instead of impatience. There’s beauty in the in-between. This season isn’t a waiting room; it’s a chapter in its own right.

Pop Culture, Trends & What’s Happening Right Now

• Fashion Week content is everywhere, and I’m fully into the resurgence of ‘quiet luxury.’ It’s giving polished, not pretentious. Give me the clean tailoring and creamy palettes any day. 2022 feels less about trends and more about presence.

• The ‘clean girl’ aesthetic is still trending, but I’ve evolved it. I’m more of a ‘slightly chaotic clean girl with great taste and snack crumbs in her handbag’ type. A bit glowy, a bit real.

• Valentine’s Day looms, and London is gearing up to become a rom-com set—or a smug couples’ convention. Either way, I’ll be wearing something fabulous. Love is love, and also… wine is love.

• Hats off to the Dry Jan warriors. Your willpower is unmatched. Personally, I’m back in my wine-and-dinner-party era. And I’m okay with that. Balance, not binaries.

The Month Ahead: What’s Coming?

• More movement—body and soul.

• A refresh of my wardrobe, slowly incorporating lighter textures and softer tones.

• Planning a potential escape—somewhere sunny, with sea air and not a single email notification in sight.

• Continuing to romanticise the everyday. A fancy candle here, a new playlist there. It all counts.

So yes, February is still grey. Still brisk. But she’s also a bridge. Between what was and what could be. Between the hibernation of January and the bloom of March. Between who we were and who we’re slowly becoming.

Let’s make it beautiful.

Sophie x