Spring’s Almost Here, But London Has Other Ideas

March has arrived, teasing us with the promise of spring—those longer days, crocuses pushing through the pavement cracks, and the seductive idea of starting fresh. But London, ever the moody diva, has other plans. Grey skies linger, the drizzle refuses to take a break, and that one gloriously warm afternoon was clearly just a tease. We’re all craving renewal, but the city’s still firmly wrapped in its winter coat—and I’m oscillating between floral daydreams and tactical layering.

Still, there’s movement. Not quite momentum, but a shift. A collective murmur of soon. And that’s enough to stir something in me, too. Enough to make me swap out the heavy cinnamon candles for something citrusy, to start eyeing up the pink tulips outside the florist, and to get the itch for a closet clear-out (that may or may not actually happen).

Social Life: Plans, Distractions & The Art of Last-Minute Chaos

London feels louder this month, like someone turned the volume back up. Everyone’s resurfacing—booking tables, planning getaways, flinging open calendars like confetti. There’s a buzz in the air that smells faintly of espresso, ambition, and impending decisions.

Some recent highlights:

• A ‘quick drink’ at The Connaught Bar with Liv that—naturally—became an all-evening affair. Dirty martinis, soft lighting, and that warm, indulgent buzz that only comes from good conversation and better cocktails. We solved precisely none of life’s problems but managed to dramatically overanalyse our past three text messages.

• Charlie’s birthday at The River Café—the kind of night that reminds you food is an experience, not just sustenance. Dreamy plates, candlelight, and a room full of people who make you feel home. There was laughter, too much rosé, and someone’s clutch bag ended up in the bathroom sink. It was that kind of night.

• A spontaneous Sunday roast at The Grazing Goat, where a chat about gravy somehow became a full-blown summer travel strategy session. There are now three separate WhatsApp groups trying to decide between Amalfi, Antibes, and “somewhere cheap with a pool.”

• A midweek stroll through Tate Britain, chasing a feeling of cultural virtue between client calls and cappuccinos. I pretended to ponder the brushstrokes but was mostly focused on where I’d get lunch afterward.

  
  

This month’s theme: letting the plan unravel and trusting the vibe. More yeses. Fewer checklists. A reminder that spontaneity is still my favourite form of self-care—and that the best plans are often the ones made last minute, half-serious, and fully fuelled by prosecco.

Also: March is the season of the classic London outfit dilemma—do you dress for spring or accept that winter still isn’t done with you? Spoiler: I tried a linen shirt last Tuesday and immediately regretted everything. Five minutes outside and I was back in a café, ordering hot chocolate with oat milk like it was mid-January.

Style: The ‘Transitional Dressing Struggle’ Edit

My wardrobe right now is best described as wishful thinking with a side of realism. Every morning is a negotiation between fantasy Pinterest boards and actual weather forecasts.

• Trench coats layered over chunky knits. Classic with a hint of delusion.

• Ankle boots for mornings, trainers for afternoons. I’ve stopped pretending I can pick one. Bonus points if I actually make it through the day without blister plasters.

• Tailored blazers that make me feel like I’ve got it all together—even when my inbox says otherwise. (Let’s not talk about my inbox.)

• Gold jewellery, soft waves, a minimalist face with a power brow. Still chasing that effortless, clean-feminine energy.

• Silk scarves starting to creep in again—tied in ponytails, tossed over handbags, or just loosely knotted for vibe purposes.

  
  

Also: the seasonal London thing where people start wearing sunglasses despite the absence of sun. I see you. I am you. It’s not about practicality—it’s about holding onto hope.

My shoes are confused, my coat collection is in overdrive, and my layering game is working harder than I am. Dressing in March is a game of emotional forecasting. Do I need a coat or closure? Are these loafers aspirational or just wet-sock roulette? Either way, I’m committed to looking like spring has sprung—even if I’m shivering beneath my trench.

Also currently coveting: linen trousers, oversized shirts, and anything in pastel that makes me feel like a walking sorbet. Bonus if it pairs with a flat white and some light existential dread.

Wellness: Easing Into a New Season

Right now, I’m keeping things light, steady, and sustainable. The urge to overhaul everything is real—but I’m resisting. March is transitional, and so is my approach to wellness. This isn’t the season for reinvention—it’s the soft stretch before the bloom.

• More movement, but nothing too intense. Pilates in the morning sun when I can find it. Evening walks to soften the edge of a long day. A reminder that “just showing up” still counts.

• Still avoiding running because, quite frankly, my body has zero interest in cardio when it’s under 10 degrees. If I’m sweating, it better be from dancing, not punishment.

• Hydration: trying, failing, trying again. I’ve bought yet another chic reusable bottle. Maybe this one’s the magic charm? It’s sage green, which feels vaguely healing.

• Simplified skincare: think glow, not glam. A dewy base, nourishing serums, SPF. That “clean girl” aesthetic is working overtime in my bathroom cabinet. There’s also a jade roller I occasionally remember to use.

• Booked a facial because winter did not care for my moisture barrier and it shows. Also considering a lymphatic drainage massage because Instagram says it’s the key to everything.

  
  

This season is about care, not control. I’m treating wellness like a series of micro-rituals—nothing to prove, everything to enjoy. Slow mornings, warm drinks, mood-based movement, and playlists that feel like a hug. No pressure. Just presence.

Mindset: Taking Things One Day at a Time

March feels like the inhale before the bloom. That tender stretch between what was and what’s next. I’m not rushing her. I’m sitting with her. Letting the ambiguity feel expansive rather than urgent. Holding space for possibility.

Right now, I’m focusing on:

• Embracing where I am, rather than sprinting toward something shinier. The now can be enough.

• Making the most of London while I’m here—before the inevitable wanderlust kicks in and I start Googling island retreats.

• Saying yes more, even when I want to curl into my duvet and binge comfort dramas from 2006. Sometimes joy needs a little nudge.

• Giving myself permission to not have it all figured out. (Harder than it sounds, but working on it.)

  
  

Also: I’ve started journaling again—not the structured, goal-setting kind, just snippets of thoughts, half-formed poems, weird dreams. It’s messy, but it’s mine. It feels like catching up with myself in writing.

And maybe that’s the theme of this month: coming home to myself, quietly. Not performing, not proving. Just being. One page, one walk, one almond croissant at a time.

Pop Culture, Trends & What’s Happening Right Now

• The ‘clean girl aesthetic’ is still reigning, but there’s a whisper of rebellion. Think off-duty model meets hungover heiress. Tousled hair, smudged liner, oversized everything.

• Glazed skin and soft brows are still the moment. Lip oils are my current obsession—hydration with just enough gloss to look expensive.

• Y2K fashion is back, for better or worse. Low-rise jeans are trying to ruin our lives again. I’m not emotionally prepared, but the cargo pants are kind of working for me.

• Fashion Week has wrapped and confirmed what we knew: ‘quiet luxury’ isn’t going anywhere. Soft tailoring, buttery neutrals, and fabrics you want to lie down in. Think Sofia Richie in a cashmere co-ord.

• BookTok continues to dominate my nightstand. Apparently, everyone’s reading spicy fantasy fiction now. I blame the algorithm—and I’m not mad. (Yes, I now have opinions on fae kingdoms.)

• Also trending: oat milk foam art, nostalgia-drenched playlists, and interior design TikToks where people turn their rentals into Parisian hideaways. We’re all craving beauty. We’re all trying.

  
  

The Month Ahead: What’s Coming?

• Hopefully, actual spring weather. Please. I’m ready for bare ankles and Aperol.

• A few new work things brewing. Nothing too heavy, but enough to excite me.

• More leaning into London’s energy before I inevitably start plotting an escape.

• A slow flirtation with new projects. I’m letting inspiration come to me—no chasing. Ideas deserve space.

• A little reset. Nothing dramatic. Just space to breathe. A wardrobe edit, a phone declutter, maybe even a haircut.

  
  

March, I’m meeting you without a script. I’m bringing curiosity, not pressure. And if all else fails, I’ll be at the florist, buying tulips I can’t name, pretending I live in a Nancy Meyers film.

Let’s see what happens.

Sophie x