If I held a tea party it wouldn’t be just any old affair.
Vintage tea sets would spill out over delicate lace tablecloths with silver sugar tongs and gold teaspoons catching the chandelier’s twinkling light. And the sugar bowls. Oh the sugar bowls. They’d have dainty snug fitting lids that chimed if you closed them too hastily. Petit four and crustless smoked salmon sandwiches piled high on cake stands with care and attention.
Then you would see it.





