Author: alexandrachoudhury

There are a lot of stereotypically British things: beans on toast, a proper cup of tea, the BBC, a Sunday Roast, queuing, a pint at the pub after work. Something British that speaks to me in particular is a nice, long, warm trench coat in the colder months. 

Going to work? Trench. Going to uni? Trench. Going to the gym? Trench. Going to the pub? Trench. Seeing a show on the West End? Trench. Going to Sainsbury’s for five minutes for a carton of eggs? Trench.

The trench coat as we know it today has its origins in the early 1900s, created by Burberry just at the start of the first World War. Designed for British Army officers, it gained the name of the “trench” coat for its usage in the trenches during the war. After officers came home, it became a popular civilian staple. 

While Brits are no longer wearing trench coats in actual trenches, they still weather the battles of London weather in November. Cold, windy, dark, depressing. So, on walks down Oxford Street or through Shoreditch, trench coats are a more common sight than a red double-decker bus.

After seeing everyone and their mom, dad, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandmas, and grandpas, wearing a trench coat every day, I caved and bought one. I got mine from Abercrombie and Fitch, which is an American brand, but has a much nicer selection in the UK (not as many sweatshirts and sweatpants so beloved by Americans). I’ve been wearing it nonstop since I got it; it’s warm, and it makes me feel like I’m Sherlock Holmes on my way to solve a mystery on Bond Street. Here’s some advice for anyone interested in getting a trench coat: do not, and I repeat, DO NOT buy trench coats made of polyester. Paying for a coat that is mainly made of polyester is essentially like paying to wear a plastic bottle all day. And for over 100 quid, you are being ripped off by Zara or H&M for a coat that won’t even keep you warm. In a coat, look for at least 50%+ wool, and make sure it has a lining inside to trap heat and prevent it from having too much friction against your interior clothes. Anything above 80% wool is definitely going to be out of the price range for most university students, unless your parents are known for donating buildings to private schools for dachshunds in Kensington and Chelsea. Also consider the color; black might have the issue of getting white fibers/fuzz on it and need to be rolled with a lint roller more often, while white might have the same issue with dark spots. Mine is espresso brown, so if I spill a little bit of coffee or Diet Coke on it, no one will ever know. 

On coffee: please stop at Bar Italia in Soho’s little Italy if you are ever in London. Chef Anthony Bourdain said Bar Italia is “the best cup of coffee… or damn near close to it.” And it’s true. The cappuccino I had outside, in my new trench coat, enjoying the passerby, was so very marvelous. To be honest, coffee in London is… generally just okay. It feels like the concept of coffee, or like someone tried to make coffee without any actual coffee beans—it’s not horrible, but it’s not amazing either. I would argue that the coffee in America, and the rest of continental Europe, is better. Which is ironic, considering that the British colonized a vast majority of coffee-producing countries and somehow don’t quite know how to use the beans (same thing with spices; Brits aren’t exactly known for their tolerance of flavor-packed cuisine). But nonetheless, Bar Italia makes a memorable drink. 

Across from Bar Italia is Ronnie Scott’s, a famous jazz club in London that has been operating since 1959. It has a mutually beneficial existence with Bar Italia: get an espresso before the show, sway to some jazz all night, exit the club and stumble across the street once more for their house tiramisu before hopping on the night tube home. A nice cappuccino and a night out helps to alleviate the cruelty of the world, even if only for a little while. 

In other news, my birthday was just this last weekend! One only turns 20 in London once. I don’t have much to say other than that I feel prehistoric. But, I did receive a really sweet surprise from my flatmates, who ominously summoned me into the kitchen and presented me with a little set of cupcakes and a card they had gotten from Waitrose. I also bought my trench coat as a gift to myself in Battersea Power Station, and had a nice drink at a vinyl-cafe-bar-thing in Brick Lane. Not bad. 

Thank you again for reading, and happy Thanksgiving! 

Alexandra 

You will find that Americans will somehow still follow you to every corner of the planet, just when you are trying to get away from the US. Even worse, you will find people you know and it’ll make your eye twitch – because how on Earth did I find this person here? 

I say this because last weekend, I went with my aunt to see the Phantom of the Opera at His Majesty’s Theater. It was my first time seeing a musical in the West End. I’ve never pictured myself as a theater enjoyer, but that’s probably because I’ve never been in a city where theater is all that popular. Really, I picture poorly-produced high school shows that make you cringe. 

I was flipping through the program I got before the show started, and lo and behold: a swing cast member who studied at the Lamont School of Music at DU. Excuse me? How could I possibly have found a DU alum in this particular showing of the Phantom of the Opera, on this day, at this time? I didn’t know that our music school was that good (no offense to any Lamonters reading this). He will never know that I was in the crowd watching his show, but it was weird to think that this guy walked around the same campus that I did, thousands of miles away. 

But West End theater is no joke. Everything from the costumes to the rapid changes on set were something to behold. The giant chandelier that gets hoisted into the air and then comes crashing down onto the stage, the 2+ hours that are required for the Phantom’s makeup alone, the thousands of beads on every dress and suit are really something to see. It’s peak human creativity; refreshing to see in a time when AI can now “sing” a cover of an Elvis Presley song as Michael Jackson and auto-generated images are everywhere. 

I have exactly one month left abroad, and I want to tear out my hair thinking about it. I’m having fun, living in a big city, and frankly, I’ve accommodated very well to living in London. Going back means that I will have to be dragged back into the real world with no public transportation and no more fun accents. So now I feel the pressure to do as much as possible (no matter how financially irresponsible) before I return. Despite the fact that I’ve already been trying to see the city as best I can, it feels like I haven’t even explored a fraction of it.

Maybe that’s something that just comes with living in a place as big as London. Things are always changing. The holiday season makes this especially apparent, as the giant angels floating above Oxford Street just seemed to show up overnight. When did they even find time to hang them up? There’s always traffic, and the old infrastructure isn’t the most friendly to modernized Christmas decorations. Also, Christmas markets have been popping up all over the city. Leicester Square, Southbank, Trafalgar Square, Covent Garden, Old Spitalfields, London Bridge. When am I even supposed to find the time to visit them all? On the bright side (or rather, the dark side), it gets pitch-black at 5pm, so all the decorations light up early. 

Thank you again for reading,

Alexandra