The sun is shining. London's parks are overflowing with pink limbs, picnic blankets and bottles of cava. The slowly-baking pavements are empty. I am sitting in my vast, yet equally empty office, wishing I could be beating down those pavements, to stock up on some sugared almond-hued jeans (I'd like a nude pair, to be worn with bright sandals and a slouchy white vest). There's nothing more frustrating than having to resort to the internet for your shopping fix. Wait, there is - working on Good Friday when you should be enjoying the Parklife too...
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