This weekend, I officially dipped into hipster London culture. And I loved it. Naturally.

My roommate and I went down to Brick Lane, which I have come to understand to be the Brooklyn of London. We happened to wander into a mass of people that we later figured out to be the beginning fringes of the Brick Lane Market, which happens every Saturday and Sunday. The market seemed to draw all sorts of people of all ages; from young adults like us dressed in docs and round rimmed glasses to French parents pushing wrapped up toddlers in lovely strollers.

We managed to elbow through the heaps of people filtering either way and ducked down into the coolest vintage flea market I've ever been in. There were racks of worn denim, painted jeans, supple leather jackets, full fur coats, and patterned scarves everywhere. Overstuffed trunks sat with their lids thrown open, boas and velvet and lace bursting out of them. There weren't just clothes being sold, there were boxes and boxes of old vinyl of era past. It was interesting just to rifle through the abundance of the wares that were offered. And if for some reason in the near future anyone needs an ankle length full fur mink coat, I know where you can get one.

We finished the outing by getting massive hot dogs stuff with onions and peppers. Oh, and I cut all my hair off. It was a pretty successful weekend.