As a frazzled 30-year-old living in a Zone 3 house share, stepping foot in Mayfair is like receiving a jovial slap to the face. Out of the blue it’s pretty startling. If you anticipate it, however… It’s almost funny. Almost.
Either way, the contact is bound to sting. Of course, like an extra long voice note or a deep-tissue massage, there’s nothing wrong with a little pain in the name of the very best. But let’s be honest, this part of town tends to feature a glut of style over substance.
