That I got my very first tattoo at a pop-up parlour in Selfridges is both completely ridiculous and usefully revealing. Partly this applies to the sort of 18-year-old I was. Which is to say, one who wanted to embrace youthful recklessness (via an only moderately embarrassing, Beckhamesque crucifix between the shoulder blades) but one who also hoped a sheen of boujee respectability might lessen the inevitable hail of parental shouting.
Still, I suppose the bigger illustrative truth here is this: Selfridges has a long and distinguished history of trying the sorts of things you wouldn’t necessarily expect from a 114-year-old department store. 2018 saw the addition of a permanent skate bowl on the first floor. You can still head to the basement for a clairvoyance session with the Psychic Sisters. And now, just in time to offer sanity and sanctuary amid the shuffling hordes of Christmas shopping season, here is Jackson Boxer at The Corner: a louche long-term kitchen residency, wedged in between luxury womenswear concessions, from one of the capital’s most interesting culinary communicators.
