So we went out to a village during Easter week, to enjoy the lovely Oxfordshire countryside pfeeyeahright.
This wasn't any old thatch and pubs village, this is Bicester Village, an outlet shopping centre which somehow morphed into a megamassive tourist attraction, on the strength of, um, cut-price designer shoes? Maybe? Its attractions are often felt by the locals to be somewhat obscure, but no-one minds the economic muckspread which has fuelled one of the fastest-growing garden towns in the Midlands. It's a home-grown success story, with its own hanging-garden themed multistorey carpark. But that's a post in its own right. Today we're park-and-riding it straight into the belly of the best, the main drag, the shopping spine.
Built in 1995 in the luxury Cotswold shed aesthetic, and kept primped and perked by an army of cleaners, gardeners and hosts, the effect is akin to a luxury shopping-themed episode of The Prisoner. Everything feels like a filmset, in the old style, all cardboard luxury in dense colours. Striding the main street you feel your hips start to jut out, a slight supermodel swagger creeps in. It's a catwalk, complete with OTT floral stylings, fresh fantasy planters (in the rustic style) and even a blossom-curtain to welcome you as you walk in.
Grab your bags, because we're going shopping:
The blossom curtain at the entrance is one of the few faux-botanicals on display. But really, on a place that's open 365 days a year, what are you going to rely on to rain blossom down on your visitors? Wisteria?
Oh, the rusticity. Note the flat-tired bike - part of the display, and a nod to Oxford down the road; and these galvanised watering cans, how many of them did I lug around in my childhood back on the farm? Eventually they go through on the bottom after one too many times left sitting in a muck-heap and hey-presto, the perfect container for fancy copperish foliage plants.
This planter is good. Nice colour, nice mix of plants.The camellias are going over but their quality still shines through.
But these planters are amazing, like little mid-century modern piglets made of perfect white concrete. Never mind the Dior darling, where did you get the plant pots?
And speaking of objects of desire, what about this little growhouse? What a thing! It would be perfect for miniature tender fruit trees, or to ram full of improbable amounts of tomato:
And just to prove that there is no fear of cliche here, observe that Pinterest favourite, plants in a birdcage (on a distressed vintage trestle table):
This side street full of delicate lampshade-cut birch standards felt more Instagrammatic, and had its fair share of people taking selfies among the glittering leaves.
Some inspired spring colours, especially in the bigger planters. Check out this cherry blossom and peach broom combination, spring in a pot:
And of course, only the finest tulips:
Outside the main street, the planting takes on a more defensive air. The curtain wall is barred with espaliers, some of it softened with fat curds of blossom:
Where a wall isn't possible, the shop backs are protected by ivy-topped traffic barriers in Oxford Gold concrete. These will stop ram-raiders making off with vansfull of designer trainers, keep the cars off the pedestrians, and look good while they're doing it:
What a combination of beauty and utility. I could have photographed these all day, except someone would probably have thought I was casing the joint.
Anyway, we got what we came for (a small Le Creuset casserole dish and wallets to replace our old broken ones) and what we didn't (an overly designed snack bowl and, yes, some designer trainers). We ate of the artisanal doughnuts and other currently fashionable street food. Time for the short walk to the bus stop, under scrubbed white birches, improbably huge for their container-bound life:
Oh gosh, almost forgot. Just time for a #BicesterVillage selfie. In the toilets, of course, because although this camera does have a selfie mode, my self portrait habits were set by the Mirror Project.
This wasn't any old thatch and pubs village, this is Bicester Village, an outlet shopping centre which somehow morphed into a megamassive tourist attraction, on the strength of, um, cut-price designer shoes? Maybe? Its attractions are often felt by the locals to be somewhat obscure, but no-one minds the economic muckspread which has fuelled one of the fastest-growing garden towns in the Midlands. It's a home-grown success story, with its own hanging-garden themed multistorey carpark. But that's a post in its own right. Today we're park-and-riding it straight into the belly of the best, the main drag, the shopping spine.
Built in 1995 in the luxury Cotswold shed aesthetic, and kept primped and perked by an army of cleaners, gardeners and hosts, the effect is akin to a luxury shopping-themed episode of The Prisoner. Everything feels like a filmset, in the old style, all cardboard luxury in dense colours. Striding the main street you feel your hips start to jut out, a slight supermodel swagger creeps in. It's a catwalk, complete with OTT floral stylings, fresh fantasy planters (in the rustic style) and even a blossom-curtain to welcome you as you walk in.
Grab your bags, because we're going shopping:
The blossom curtain at the entrance is one of the few faux-botanicals on display. But really, on a place that's open 365 days a year, what are you going to rely on to rain blossom down on your visitors? Wisteria?
Oh, the rusticity. Note the flat-tired bike - part of the display, and a nod to Oxford down the road; and these galvanised watering cans, how many of them did I lug around in my childhood back on the farm? Eventually they go through on the bottom after one too many times left sitting in a muck-heap and hey-presto, the perfect container for fancy copperish foliage plants.
This planter is good. Nice colour, nice mix of plants.The camellias are going over but their quality still shines through.
But these planters are amazing, like little mid-century modern piglets made of perfect white concrete. Never mind the Dior darling, where did you get the plant pots?
And speaking of objects of desire, what about this little growhouse? What a thing! It would be perfect for miniature tender fruit trees, or to ram full of improbable amounts of tomato:
And just to prove that there is no fear of cliche here, observe that Pinterest favourite, plants in a birdcage (on a distressed vintage trestle table):
This side street full of delicate lampshade-cut birch standards felt more Instagrammatic, and had its fair share of people taking selfies among the glittering leaves.
Some inspired spring colours, especially in the bigger planters. Check out this cherry blossom and peach broom combination, spring in a pot:
And of course, only the finest tulips:
Outside the main street, the planting takes on a more defensive air. The curtain wall is barred with espaliers, some of it softened with fat curds of blossom:
Where a wall isn't possible, the shop backs are protected by ivy-topped traffic barriers in Oxford Gold concrete. These will stop ram-raiders making off with vansfull of designer trainers, keep the cars off the pedestrians, and look good while they're doing it:
What a combination of beauty and utility. I could have photographed these all day, except someone would probably have thought I was casing the joint.
Anyway, we got what we came for (a small Le Creuset casserole dish and wallets to replace our old broken ones) and what we didn't (an overly designed snack bowl and, yes, some designer trainers). We ate of the artisanal doughnuts and other currently fashionable street food. Time for the short walk to the bus stop, under scrubbed white birches, improbably huge for their container-bound life:
Oh gosh, almost forgot. Just time for a #BicesterVillage selfie. In the toilets, of course, because although this camera does have a selfie mode, my self portrait habits were set by the Mirror Project.
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