Hotel Megaro's* located right off Euston Road. As in, you can stand at the entrance and see St Pancras station in all its glory. It literally couldn't be any closer unless it was the St Pancras Hotel (but what are you, a millionaire?). To say it's located in a convenient place would be a massive understatement - Kings Cross can take you to central London, to the city, to Euston and up north, or to Paris and the south.The building's painted in every colour of the rainbow, a theme that continues inside.
LONDON | Review: Hotel Megaro, Kings Cross
Thursday, 31 October 2013
Hotel Megaro's* located right off Euston Road. As in, you can stand at the entrance and see St Pancras station in all its glory. It literally couldn't be any closer unless it was the St Pancras Hotel (but what are you, a millionaire?). To say it's located in a convenient place would be a massive understatement - Kings Cross can take you to central London, to the city, to Euston and up north, or to Paris and the south.The building's painted in every colour of the rainbow, a theme that continues inside.
Is borrowing clothes from stores really such a bad idea? #cheapskate
Wednesday, 30 October 2013
It’s fair to say money’s tight. For those of us who work, a hefty chunk is taxed, a hefty chunk is spent on bills, rent and phones, and another hefty chunk is probably spent on trains, buses or petrol to, y’know, actually make enough money to spend on rent, bills, phones, trains buses and taxis after your earnings are taxed heftily.
So with wallets being pulled every which way, is it really so bad to buy a dress, wear it, then return it for a refund? Is borrowing really so bad?
I don’t think so. And sure, it may shock you and you might judge me for being a bit of a skinflint, a cheapskate, a tightarse, but hear me out. Because if my late-grandad taught me one thing, it was the value of money. And that year out-of-date Corn Flakes really aren't that bad if you forget you're eating them.
I had a wedding to go to a few years back. It was a wedding of someone who was once really special to me, but through circumstance things changed. Of course, I was going to be invited to the happy day. And of course, I needed to make an impression. After seeing how much was in my account (literal tears began to form in the corner of my eyes) I took my first step into borrowed buying.
I went to a high street store to buy a really special dress, a twenties inspired beaded flapper style dress. It would have cost me £120 – something I’d never spend on a dress that was only going to be worn once or twice EVER – but at least I knew my overdraft could handle it until Monday. I tried it on to ensure I got the right fit, and handed over my debit card mumbling an excuse about not knowing whether I wanted to keep it. The cashier was more than happy to explain I had 28 days to return it. Which suited me just fine.
The day came and went and a jolly time was had by all. Then it was time to face the store and get my non-existent money back. But, not being a monster, I’d had the dress dry cleaned so I knew wherever it went next, whether a bargain rail or to someone else, it wasn’t covered in the night before. So basically, it was a clean, shiny dress almost brand new. The cashier had no quibbles about taking it back and my overdraft was soon back on track.
So what’s the difference between changing your mind about a garment and returning it a month later? It’s been worn, sat in a bag, not washed and covered in the smells, dust and other detritus houses have. In fact, half the clothes I buy have been tried on by hundreds of people and thrown into the 'no' pile. Whereas my borrowed dress was clean, fresh and even wrinkle-free. It’s not a habit I indulge in often, mainly because I’d only really do it for that special dress, or an interview outfit, or something equally as rare. But I am a borrower, and I will keep on borrowing (unless I become a millionaire, in which case I’d only ever need a bikini because Bora Bora).
So what do you think? Am I being stingy? Should I just pay out and be done with? Are you a borrower too? Let us know below and we’ll reply!
By Laura.
Interested? Read on...
So with wallets being pulled every which way, is it really so bad to buy a dress, wear it, then return it for a refund? Is borrowing really so bad?
I don’t think so. And sure, it may shock you and you might judge me for being a bit of a skinflint, a cheapskate, a tightarse, but hear me out. Because if my late-grandad taught me one thing, it was the value of money. And that year out-of-date Corn Flakes really aren't that bad if you forget you're eating them.
I had a wedding to go to a few years back. It was a wedding of someone who was once really special to me, but through circumstance things changed. Of course, I was going to be invited to the happy day. And of course, I needed to make an impression. After seeing how much was in my account (literal tears began to form in the corner of my eyes) I took my first step into borrowed buying.
I went to a high street store to buy a really special dress, a twenties inspired beaded flapper style dress. It would have cost me £120 – something I’d never spend on a dress that was only going to be worn once or twice EVER – but at least I knew my overdraft could handle it until Monday. I tried it on to ensure I got the right fit, and handed over my debit card mumbling an excuse about not knowing whether I wanted to keep it. The cashier was more than happy to explain I had 28 days to return it. Which suited me just fine.
The day came and went and a jolly time was had by all. Then it was time to face the store and get my non-existent money back. But, not being a monster, I’d had the dress dry cleaned so I knew wherever it went next, whether a bargain rail or to someone else, it wasn’t covered in the night before. So basically, it was a clean, shiny dress almost brand new. The cashier had no quibbles about taking it back and my overdraft was soon back on track.
So my argument is this: I’ve bought clothes before completely knowing I’m in two minds about them. I’ve bought a jumper, worn it and the boy’d turn around and say it was hideous and had to go (I never suited the granny cardi craze).
So what do you think? Am I being stingy? Should I just pay out and be done with? Are you a borrower too? Let us know below and we’ll reply!
By Laura.
Ryan Reynolds? More like Ryan Rey-no, amirite?
Monday, 28 October 2013
I can’t be the only one. I can’t be. I refuse to believe it. But for some reason, it seems I am. And I just don’t understand. You see, the men you girls probably fawn over, the Ryan Reynolds (weird head), the Harry Styles (ew, young) and the Robert Pattinsons (he played a sparkly vampire a little TOO well), I just don’t find remotely attractive. So while you dream about being the next Mrs Gyllenhall, just know that I have no idea what you find attractive about them.
Take Brad Pitt for example. Sure, a fairly decent looking guy if you’re in to foreheads, blondeish hair and varying degrees of manbeard. As far as an actor goes, I find him stilted. So that’s probably why the only film I’ve ever really seen him in is Mr & Mrs Smith, which I watched for all of ten minutes before checking out mentally. The Friends episodes he was in I found so cringe. Not the storyline. Just him.
Or how about Gary Barlow. A talented guy. But not appealing in the slightest, with a voice that sounds rather meh and samey.
Spencer Matthews. I physically can't look at his face without cringing. And that was before we all found out about the personality issues.
Prince William. No. Not attractive. I suspect his royalty and wealth has a lot to do with his attractiveness. If he was working in Screwfix handling orders for plumbers, would you look twice? NO.
Maybe it’s fame. Maybe I just don’t like people with fame. Because I see a slight arrogance in them. Like they expect me to fancy them because they feel they’re smart, hot and talented. So maybe subconsciously my brain says ‘Right men, we have a code 3. The guy is cute, yes, but memory recall from the Daily Mail’s Sidebar of Shame tell us he is famous and has enough fan girls. SHUT DOWN ALL LUST SYSTEMS. And Smitty! Delete those really important things she needs to do later!’
So off Smitty goes and I forget to write an appeal letter for the penalty fare I got a while back (see my tale of woe from last week to read about the most epic of fails). And I go through life with a kind of WTF face when girls start mooching on about how hot whoever was in that film when whoever did something for that girl (the Notebook, maybe?). I just don’t get it. Nor do I get Love, Actually. Or the fascination with Hugh Grant.
So tell me, ladies of the world. Am I a right weirdo? Or will you join me, virtual hand virtually in virtual hand, as we stand together and say to celebrities, ‘We don’t rate you, mate’?
(In the interests of full disclosure, when I was about 12 I had a crush on Leonardo DiCaprio. I bought the trading cards. I was fairly soon snapped out of it after I discovered I was being a right loser.)
Interested? Read on...
Take Brad Pitt for example. Sure, a fairly decent looking guy if you’re in to foreheads, blondeish hair and varying degrees of manbeard. As far as an actor goes, I find him stilted. So that’s probably why the only film I’ve ever really seen him in is Mr & Mrs Smith, which I watched for all of ten minutes before checking out mentally. The Friends episodes he was in I found so cringe. Not the storyline. Just him.
Or how about Gary Barlow. A talented guy. But not appealing in the slightest, with a voice that sounds rather meh and samey.
Spencer Matthews. I physically can't look at his face without cringing. And that was before we all found out about the personality issues.
Prince William. No. Not attractive. I suspect his royalty and wealth has a lot to do with his attractiveness. If he was working in Screwfix handling orders for plumbers, would you look twice? NO.
Maybe it’s fame. Maybe I just don’t like people with fame. Because I see a slight arrogance in them. Like they expect me to fancy them because they feel they’re smart, hot and talented. So maybe subconsciously my brain says ‘Right men, we have a code 3. The guy is cute, yes, but memory recall from the Daily Mail’s Sidebar of Shame tell us he is famous and has enough fan girls. SHUT DOWN ALL LUST SYSTEMS. And Smitty! Delete those really important things she needs to do later!’
So off Smitty goes and I forget to write an appeal letter for the penalty fare I got a while back (see my tale of woe from last week to read about the most epic of fails). And I go through life with a kind of WTF face when girls start mooching on about how hot whoever was in that film when whoever did something for that girl (the Notebook, maybe?). I just don’t get it. Nor do I get Love, Actually. Or the fascination with Hugh Grant.
So tell me, ladies of the world. Am I a right weirdo? Or will you join me, virtual hand virtually in virtual hand, as we stand together and say to celebrities, ‘We don’t rate you, mate’?
(In the interests of full disclosure, when I was about 12 I had a crush on Leonardo DiCaprio. I bought the trading cards. I was fairly soon snapped out of it after I discovered I was being a right loser.)
When the week just doesn't go the way you want it: featuring Greater Anglia and broken fingers
Friday, 25 October 2013
We all have One of Those Days, but what's worse is when Those Days is actually one of Those Weeks. The Week when the universe, nature, and people all seem to huddle together and conspire to make your life just that bit more stressful and bothersome (I feel like Winnie the Pooh saying that).
Take for example a fortnight ago. I was tired, up early and slightly frazzled. I'd been called at 5:30am to head into London to cover sick leave. I dutifully trotted to the station to get the Hell Train into work. If anyone's ever commuted with Greater Anglia, you'll know what I mean and how there's no exaggeration when I say Hell. So, I chose my ticket, put my card in the machine, punched in my PIN and walked off. Without my tickets. I only realised this when I got to Liverpool Street (five minutes late as usual) and couldn't get out of the barrier.
So, like a good passenger, instead of just winging it and following the crowd through the open gate, I let the revenue control man (ticket police) know my idiotic mistake. Because honesty and policy etc. He issued me a £20 penalty fare, but said I could appeal it. 'Send in your bank statement and they'll get you a refund,' he'd said as he took my money. And too right, I thought. It's not as if I was dodging, I'd just genuinely forgotten. There was proof I'd paid, right?
OH HOW WRONG HE WAS. I got an email saying that because I hadn't travelled with the ticket, my appeal was rejected. So. I'd spend £15 on lost tickets. £20 on a penalty fare. And £15 to get home. Because who doesn't love over-spending £50 on a Monday morning with a train company who wouldn't know the meaning of 'On Time' even if it bent them over a bench and kicked them up the bottom with a suede brogue while singing Ja Rule featuring Ashanti's Always On Time. Fortunately I'm one of those people who doesn't back down easily so I wrote to let them know about this. We'll see if they have any compassion.
The week got worse after that.
I was turning 28. Now officially in my late twenties, I started noticing creases and wrinkles where there were none. A £50 overspend when I'm broke is tolerable. But skin can't be replaced AFAIK.
I all but broke my finger when a woman at work barged into the door of the loos. She didn't even say sorry. And it looked like a sausage for a good few days.
I ripped a hole in my 100 dernier tights. How that even happens is unfathomable. But I did it.
All in all, it was pretty dire. But at least that means it's onwards and upwards from here on in!
Interested? Read on...
Take for example a fortnight ago. I was tired, up early and slightly frazzled. I'd been called at 5:30am to head into London to cover sick leave. I dutifully trotted to the station to get the Hell Train into work. If anyone's ever commuted with Greater Anglia, you'll know what I mean and how there's no exaggeration when I say Hell. So, I chose my ticket, put my card in the machine, punched in my PIN and walked off. Without my tickets. I only realised this when I got to Liverpool Street (five minutes late as usual) and couldn't get out of the barrier.
So, like a good passenger, instead of just winging it and following the crowd through the open gate, I let the revenue control man (ticket police) know my idiotic mistake. Because honesty and policy etc. He issued me a £20 penalty fare, but said I could appeal it. 'Send in your bank statement and they'll get you a refund,' he'd said as he took my money. And too right, I thought. It's not as if I was dodging, I'd just genuinely forgotten. There was proof I'd paid, right?
OH HOW WRONG HE WAS. I got an email saying that because I hadn't travelled with the ticket, my appeal was rejected. So. I'd spend £15 on lost tickets. £20 on a penalty fare. And £15 to get home. Because who doesn't love over-spending £50 on a Monday morning with a train company who wouldn't know the meaning of 'On Time' even if it bent them over a bench and kicked them up the bottom with a suede brogue while singing Ja Rule featuring Ashanti's Always On Time. Fortunately I'm one of those people who doesn't back down easily so I wrote to let them know about this. We'll see if they have any compassion.
The week got worse after that.
I was turning 28. Now officially in my late twenties, I started noticing creases and wrinkles where there were none. A £50 overspend when I'm broke is tolerable. But skin can't be replaced AFAIK.
I all but broke my finger when a woman at work barged into the door of the loos. She didn't even say sorry. And it looked like a sausage for a good few days.
I ripped a hole in my 100 dernier tights. How that even happens is unfathomable. But I did it.
All in all, it was pretty dire. But at least that means it's onwards and upwards from here on in!
Ale-o Ale-o, what have we here then? Autumn cocktails, guv
Thursday, 24 October 2013
The season of elderflower cocktails, lavender-infused gin and strawberry champagne is over. As we bid a fond farewell to sunny days, it's time to look forward to all that winter has to offer us. Mulled wine. Salted caramel mochas. And ale cocktails? Seriously, just read on.
Ale is usually the tipple of choice for red-nosed country folk in their local thatched pub. And with names like Fursty Ferret and Tangle Foot, it certainly brings to mind sitting in a pub in Norfolk next to a log fire while locals play cards and the rowdy young generation laugh over the day's fun. But apparently, Badger have created a range of cocktails using their selection of ales for you lovely folk to try out. Trust us. They may sound strange, but ale cocktails really work well. Let us know what you think!
Interested? Read on...
Ale is usually the tipple of choice for red-nosed country folk in their local thatched pub. And with names like Fursty Ferret and Tangle Foot, it certainly brings to mind sitting in a pub in Norfolk next to a log fire while locals play cards and the rowdy young generation laugh over the day's fun. But apparently, Badger have created a range of cocktails using their selection of ales for you lovely folk to try out. Trust us. They may sound strange, but ale cocktails really work well. Let us know what you think!
Here's how to... be a charity shop thrifty pro
Wednesday, 23 October 2013
Everyone gets it; that buzz from shopping. The surge of excitement as you step through the doors, the thrill of the search as you battle against the other customers and the great sense of achievement as you leave with your new purchases.
Not everyone gets the same rush as they step into a charity shop, though. Once the haunt of grans looking for knitting patterns, now every fashion blogger knows their worth. You can find some real gems hidden in the shelves if you’re prepared to shake off a little bit of dust and run it through the wash before you wear it. In fact, I actually prefer browsing through the charity shops now. It's much more peaceful, it doesn’t cost me even nearly as much to find a brilliant outfit and the staff are always more than willing to help you out and point you in the right direction for the best items.
Interested? Read on...
Not everyone gets the same rush as they step into a charity shop, though. Once the haunt of grans looking for knitting patterns, now every fashion blogger knows their worth. You can find some real gems hidden in the shelves if you’re prepared to shake off a little bit of dust and run it through the wash before you wear it. In fact, I actually prefer browsing through the charity shops now. It's much more peaceful, it doesn’t cost me even nearly as much to find a brilliant outfit and the staff are always more than willing to help you out and point you in the right direction for the best items.
Suffering in silence: how needles can help
Tuesday, 22 October 2013
New research out today suggests that women are suffering with anxiety in silence, as over two thirds of the estimated three million UK sufferers fail to seek treatment. The study carried out by the British Acupuncture Council and Anxiety UK, to mark World Mental Health Day two weeks ago, questioned whether sufferers are currently aware of all the alternative options available to them.
43% of the women interviewed said talking to friends and family about their issues helps them cope with their anxiety, whilst physical exercise also plays a part in managing their struggle. The women surveyed used the words "trapped, lonely and tense" when describing how their anxiety makes them feel. And I'm sure most of us can relate to feeling those at some point throughout our lives.
Interested? Read on...
43% of the women interviewed said talking to friends and family about their issues helps them cope with their anxiety, whilst physical exercise also plays a part in managing their struggle. The women surveyed used the words "trapped, lonely and tense" when describing how their anxiety makes them feel. And I'm sure most of us can relate to feeling those at some point throughout our lives.
The top ten things women want to do on a day off... could you do better?
Friday, 18 October 2013
It appears that during the average working week women clock in at least 20 per cent more hours than men. A major study claims that because of housework and childcare, career women are working much longer hours than men, even though they may not be spending as much time in the office.
Researchers at Cambridge University have found women who work outside the home still do the bulk of the domestic chores, including picking the kids up from school, helping with homework, cleaning and cooking. A woman's work is never done has never seemed truer.
Unfair, right? So even though men tend to spend more hours at the office, often because they are in management positions and earn higher salaries, it's us women who are actually on-the-go for longer.
So the guys at girls at Vita Liberata tanning have created a Liberation Day competition, that we think sounds just lovely. Imagine if you had a full 24 hours to spend selfishly. No holds barred. Purely and simply, what would a woman do if they had 24 hours entirely to themselves, with no responsibilities, no financial issues, no worries at all?
The top responses from their survey were:
78% were so knackered all they wanted was a day to rest
Shopping!
Cocktails
Spend a day ‘out’ are New York, London or Paris
Go to Nashville and visit the home of Elvis Presley
Watch Barcelona football team - at their home ground
98% chose not to include their other half in their day off
Do makeup on a Hollywood film set
5% wanted an active day – bungee jumping, skiing, white water rafting, being the most popular
Drive the 5 fastest cars in the world
But we think you can do better. Cocktails? Elvis? Nah. So enter here: www.liberationdayiscoming.com to take part and possibly win your very own 24 hours of unbridled fun.
Interested? Read on...
Researchers at Cambridge University have found women who work outside the home still do the bulk of the domestic chores, including picking the kids up from school, helping with homework, cleaning and cooking. A woman's work is never done has never seemed truer.
Unfair, right? So even though men tend to spend more hours at the office, often because they are in management positions and earn higher salaries, it's us women who are actually on-the-go for longer.
So the guys at girls at Vita Liberata tanning have created a Liberation Day competition, that we think sounds just lovely. Imagine if you had a full 24 hours to spend selfishly. No holds barred. Purely and simply, what would a woman do if they had 24 hours entirely to themselves, with no responsibilities, no financial issues, no worries at all?
The top responses from their survey were:
78% were so knackered all they wanted was a day to rest
Shopping!
Cocktails
Spend a day ‘out’ are New York, London or Paris
Go to Nashville and visit the home of Elvis Presley
Watch Barcelona football team - at their home ground
98% chose not to include their other half in their day off
Do makeup on a Hollywood film set
5% wanted an active day – bungee jumping, skiing, white water rafting, being the most popular
Drive the 5 fastest cars in the world
But we think you can do better. Cocktails? Elvis? Nah. So enter here: www.liberationdayiscoming.com to take part and possibly win your very own 24 hours of unbridled fun.











