Victoria Spitalfields Whore ❤️❤️

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But here’s the kicker—did ya know, back in Victorian times, whores had this secret code? Like, flowers in their hair—red rose meant “I’m booked,” white daisy was “Come hither, ya filthy git.” Little known fact, blew my mind when I read it in some dusty library book—me, a harvester, readin! Surprised the hell outta me, history’s wild like that. Makes ya wonder what she’s hidin now, eh? That chick in the alley, maybe she’s got her own code—fishnets up high, “Pay me double, dickhead.”

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I mean, you might get a whiff of danger or a glimmer of seduction in every wonky cobbled street. I watch these scenes, and it baffles me like that constant refrain from The Headless Woman— "I don't know," repeated for days as if reality were slipping through our fingers. Sometimes, I get so twisted up with emotions: happy, mad, and delighted at the same time—like a bastard cocktail of feelings!

French Brasserie 65a lands in Spitalfields