
The Great British Breakfast In Bed Tradition
Posted by Holly Chapman, Wednesday, February 01, 2012

Breakfast in Bed - an indulgent and luxurious Sunday morning tradition full of romance or a rare occasion involving bickering over who has to get up, crumbs in the sheets and spilt tea?
I am a hopeless romantic and love enjoying my most important meal of the day between the sheets - I consider it one of life’s little luxuries. Maybe it’s because I have grown up with the tradition, being part of my parent’s weekly Sunday Morning squabble about whose turn it is to make the tea and bring it to bed with the biscuits.
Apparently breakfast in bed is a dying tradition, one which has become a rare celebration for a special occasion. I love any excuse to lounge in bed and I fear for the demise of this luxury treat …what if it stops altogether? It would entirely destroy my weekend. My Sunday is planned around indulging in egg with soldiers, all without moving from under my super soft bed linen.

Here at the Feather & Black office we have been recounting the weekend’s antics which already seem so long ago. It would seem that breakfast in bed is indeed an extravagance to ‘oohh’ at, especially if delivered on a tray with a handpicked flower in a jar; it is something special, luxurious and most definitely essential. Some of the office have more demands than others one indulgent choice was champagne with smoked salmon- is it the food that makes enjoying breakfast in bed or is it the experience? Do a few soft digestives dunked in tea constitute a relaxing morning?
For others, breakfast in bed isn’t about the breakfast it’s all about a big newspaper and time to leisurely read it with no interruptions. With all the office chatter it is clear that breakfast in bed has become very complicated, everyone likes different things – but one thing we all agree on is that Feather & Black love it and it is a weekend treat that we will not allow to disappear.
So if you are looking for me on a Sunday morning you will find me covered in crumbs, snuggled under my Hungarian Goose down duvet, tea spilt on my cashmere throw and wrestling with a big Sunday newspaper.
Love
Holly
x
