Ladies For A Day

Downton Abbey

photo via Fabsugar.com

Written by Elaine G. Flores

Don’t you just swoon over “Downton Abbey” on Sunday nights? I certainly do. In these Big Gulp, plastic days, it’s wonderful to imagine a world so passionate about style and indulgence. I recently took a jaunt to London with some fellow Abbey addicts to see how much luxury we we could fit into a single day.

The Crawleys are clearly committed to fashion, so we started with a morning trip to Kensington High Street. I’m fairly certain that we became a tad more soigné, just strolling along, or at least that’s what we imagined.

Downtown Abbey Season 3

Photo via CBS.org

One can’t picture Lady Mary doing anything without glamour, so my group was determined that even the least glamorous of activities–a trip to the, um, loo, if you must know–would be done with some flair. Yes, we headed to the Ritz-Carlton to use the facilities. The hotel famously regards jeans and sports shoes the way the Dowager Countess looks at Americans, the middle class and electricity, so we made sure our outfits were up to snuff. (No word on what they think of the kind of people who make field trips to their powder room.)

Obviously, afternoon tea, had to be a part of this experience. The Crawleys demand the very best, and so did we. We headed to the award-winning Athenaeum, where our biggest concern was whether to finish off with the lemon drizzle cake or Elderflower Jelly. The correct answer? Both.

While we’re not sure if Lord Grantham would approve of us willingly entering a kitchen, we did pay a visit to a cooking school to learn about the sort of French cuisine Mrs. Patmore would have served. Those of us who are tragically without a live-in staff should still be able to have a gourmet meal at home from time to time.

After a long day of leisure, it was time for an adult beverage, so we headed to the Terrace Bar at the Chesterfield Mayfair for cocktails. As we were on our way out, Chris, the velvet-voiced concierge fussed over us, insisted that we sample old-fashioned English candy (And really, who doesn’t love a man who insists that you eat candy?), ushered us out and then gave us a gallant bow. It was as if we’d found our very own Mr. Carson.

The lesson we learned is that somebody has to be pampered, it might as well be us, and hopefully, you too.