Put your hands up if you've become as obsessed with 'Mr Selfridge' as we have.
The epitome of Sunday night escapism, each week we fall for the charms of an overenthusiastic American entrepreneur - and the story behind what will become, to this day, one of the most iconic department stores in the world.
Each and every time we push open the doors and step inside Selfridges, it's with an intake of familiar, satisfying breath - combined with an internal squeal of excitement. If the walls could talk they'd be shouting "Welcome back! Get excited! This is where the beautiful things live, remember?!"
Now that might be because our usual route sees us entering via the bag department (you will be ours one day, Chanel 2.55), but in reality it's because the whole store has a sense of magic and wonderment, as though Selfridge picked up a magic wand and cast a lingering spell over the entire building and it's yellow-bagged contents. You can just feel that you're somewhere special, so much so that if we're in a hurry we purposely have to avoid whole areas (ahem, beauty & food hall fangirls over here) or we know we'll be drawn in by the 'ohmygodijusthavetohavethat' item that's taunting 'buy me! BUY ME!'.
On entering the store today, we felt that same heart-fluttering magic, but we also felt something else.
Each floor was buzzing with an atmosphere of Edwardian elegance and filled with the passionate mutterings of both staff and shoppers alike. The story of Harry Selfridge was spreading like wildfire.
We saw one especially ecstatic shopper almost burst into tears at the makeshift glove counter.
She bought a pair in red leather if you hadn't already guessed.
The popularity is palpable and the store have decided to capture the spirit of the show by putting on an afternoon tea, 'Mr Selfridge' style...
How could we resist?