Luxe & Love


It’s early Sunday morning and I’m standing outside Kepos Street Kitchen trying to juggle my hot latte, my house keys and my iPhone.

My keys slip out of my grip and fall onto the side walk, I manage to scoop them up but accidentally press the master button on my phone which activates Siri aka the electronic she-devil.

“What can I help you with?” she yells from the depths of my smartphone, my brain pounds against my head from one too many red wines the night before.

“How about an extra hand?” I mumble under my breath.

“Alright here’s what I’ve got” she says almost condescendingly.

A Wikiapeadia definition of  ‘hand’ flashed up on my screen:

hand (med./lat.: manus, pl. manūs) is a prehensile, multi-fingered extremity located at the end of an arm or forelimb of primates such as humans, chimpanzees, monkeys, and lemurs.

I ask for a hand and all I get is lemurs. This feels like the story of my life right now. I’m constantly asking questions but no matter how hard I try I can’t get the answers I want.

I’ve asked the girls to stay several times, but the answer is always no, we love you but we have to go.

Ms P is my saving grace.

I get home and make the stupid mistake of trying to open our temperamental front door while still holding the coffee. As the door finally jolts open the paper take away cup crushes in my hand and hot liquid spills everywhere.

“Shittttt” I moan throwing everything on the ground like a dramatic 12 year old. Ms P hears me and walks down the corridor to my rescue.

“What the fuck” she says shaking her head and kneeling down to collect my keys.

“Thanks, where are the girls?” I ask bending down to help her.

“I think they went to the travel agent.”

Again this is not the answer I want to hear.

We walk into the living room and I sit down on the couch. I’m defeated and it’s only 10’oclock.

“Go have a shower and get dressed we’re going to get coffee with a side of love.” Ms P says pulling me  up.

I agree to the coffee but as for the love, well I think I need more than just a side serve right now.

20 minutes later we’re dressed and waiting out the front of The Dirthouse. I turn to head in the direction of Crown St when Ms P leans forward and waves down an approaching cab.

“Get in grumpy” she says to me as the Uber car pulls over along side us.

“We are going to have breakfast somewhere new remember.”

“Where?” I ask feeling slightly annoyed that we can’t just go to one of our usual places

“Queen Street Woolarah thanks” she tells the driver.

For the millionth time this month I receive another wrong answer. Great, we’re off to have breakfast with a bunch of assholes.

It doesn’t take me long to realise that I’m the only asshole around.

 

Luxe (or the place with the love heart coffee cups).
If you’re an avid Instagramer like me you’ll be familiar with Luxe Sydney (a popular Sydney eatery) because of it’s clever branding and delicious baked goods.

 

The Luxe coffee cup gets hashtaged more by Sydneysiders on a Saturday/Sunday morning than a Woolarah housewife visits The Brow Bar in a lifetime (thats a lot). In fact a morning coffee at Luxe is somewhat of a ritual for many of Woolarah’s wealthy residents.

We are are neither wealthy nor residents but in the name of adventure and good caffeine hit Ms P decides we would be the next coffee lovers to hashtag #luxesysdney on this cool Winters morning.

If you like people watching this is the perfect place for you! As we arrive we are asked to put our name on a list and wait with the rest of the Australia’s next top model contestants. Prada, Givenchy, 3.1 Phillip Lim, Givenchy. Each girl is dressed to the nines (70% sports luxe) and is accompanied by her favourite designer handbag of the moment. My YSL and I have had quite the love/hate relationship (to be explained later in the blog) but today she acts as my protective armour as a handsome male waiter finally allocates us a seat between a group of little girls with baby chinos and some other privileged locals.

To my dismay nothing we order comes with the iconic Luxe branding, not even a napkin and therefore our iPhones remain switched off.
So how was it? The coffee – well it was good, not amazing. But maybe we are missing something? As I look around it appears that the coffee alone is enough for most customers with no plates of food in sight apart from the odd croissant at the kids table. This doesn’t deter us from ordering the two naughtiest things on the menu. Chocolate filled French toast with pear and corn fritters with maple bacon. Maple Bacon!!
It takes a while to receive our breakfast but it also gives us some time to people watch. While we wait we spot: Roxy Jacenko PR guru & her stylish toddler Pixie, an ex Home & Away star and then the best sight of all – our plates of food being carefully placed in front of us.
Is that it? Is my initial thought when I see the French Toast I paid nearly $20 for.
I take back this snooty remark as soon as I cut open the golden puffy toast and put a slice in my mouth.
It is for lack of a better word. Simply luxe.
The toast is buttery and decadent and the glazed pear gives the entire dish a perfectly light sweetness. Yum!
Unfortunately Ms P’s breakfast isn’t as impressive. For us (obviously two very important breakfast connoisseur or just two very poor hungry bitches) there is no bang for your buck here. It is delicious but hardly worth the wait and the $20 price tag.
Having said that we demolish both plates before ordering some warm beverages to go. After a few minutes two coffee cups arrive at our table, each with a big red heart. This time I make sure I’m extra careful not to crush it as we head off for a walk down a side street.
It is a nice change wondering around the tidy streets of Woollahra lusting over the beautiful houses and fancy cars. This is one thing that Ms P and I share in common, despite our dilapidated house we both love real estate and indulging in long meaningless conversations about one day owning some.
As well as taking a sneaky photo or two…
After an hour I am in a completely different head space. To be honest it is nice to get out of the Surry Hills bubble and discover a different part of Sydney.
 We eventually find a park bench and sit down while still holding our cups, not wanting to throw them out just yet.
After a few minutes of silence Ms P turns to me and smiles.
“So where in the world are we going to live next?” she asks.
I laugh and fling my arm around her accidentally knocking the cup out of her hand. We both watch it roll into what can only be described as a giant dog turd.
“Oh noooo you bitch!” she cries before we both burst into a fit of laughter.
“Did you get enough pictures for the blog?” is her second question as she flicks through the photos on her phone.
“I hope so” I say looking around at all of the beautiful terrace houses.
I take in the cool Winter air and for the first time in weeks begin to feel content with the way things are unfolding rapidly but with great purpose, I somehow suspect.
All is made easier of course by the fact that Ms P has been here every step of the way, ever since I found out about the house and the girls.
I guess the moral of the story is that it doesn’t really matter what answers you get as long as you always have someone in your life asking the same questions. 
Ms B and Ms L they have always told me how much they want to travel, discover new places, spread their wings and one day leave the place they grew up in. I guess I’m happy that they finally found the right time in their lives to do it. Like I did when I first moved to Sydney over three years ago.
It sounds awfully lame but I truly believe that everyone comes into your life for a reason and sometimes you find that people will suddenly leave your life for a reason too.
For now I’m happy spending most of my salary on over priced maple bacon in the snobby Eastern Suburbs of Sydney and living in a shitty share house and I am so lucky because I think Ms P is too.
My advice to you –  whatever comes let it come whatever goes let it go and don’t forget to cherish those who are with you right now, those people (the ones who truly believe in what you’re doing and take the time to support it) are the gateway to great things and unlocking the unlimited potential within you.
Ms P I’m sorry I made your cool coffee cup roll into a pile of poo – I fucking love you!
Miss P
About me

Heaven on Bourke is a lifestyle blog created by Miss P, a twenty-something author of a Pleasure Guide pamphlet most commonly found in luxe vibrator boxes. True story! She loves to travel between her beachy hometown of Noosa and London's upmarket Notting Hill, where she writes a smut column for a lingerie empire. Off duty, Miss P brunches in the city and dates many interesting characters. All findings on real life, sex and love are recorded in this honest lifestyle blog for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy gorgeous!

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