by A Young London Woman’s Field Notes on Romance, Catastrophe, and Import Taxes
Filed from bed, obviously. Read more London chaos at Bohiney Magazine and The London Prat.
His name was Crispin, which should have been warning enough. He works in policy-adjacent communications, meaning he writes press releases nobody reads. He was very tall, reasonably fit, and entirely unable to stop discussing Trump’s tariffs even at moments when tariff discussion is clinically inappropriate.
The Morning After
He made coffee, which I appreciated. He then explained the implications of a fifteen percent global tariff on British pharmaceutical exports, which I did not appreciate. The NHS, he said gravely, could end up paying more for American medicines because Starmer essentially traded it to Trump in exchange for not being taxed on steel exports. I said that sounded awful. He said yes. Then he made more coffee.
I sent him The London Prat’s piece on anonymous sources expressing concern anonymously. He did not find it funny. This is the thing about people who work in policy: they have entirely lost the ability to recognise when they are the joke.
Notes From a Blonde in Notting Hill
The Guardian politics section says Labour is at twenty-one percent in the polls. Crispin, who votes Labour, looked physically ill when I told him. I said perhaps Reform would be more fun at parties. He left shortly after that. I have a date tonight with someone who works in wine. I expect the conversation to be better. Queen Camilla praised wine as one of the best industries this week, so the evening has royal precedent.
SOURCE: https://bohiney.com
Further dispatches: The Daily Mash
