This one of my favorite examples of David Bowie’s earliest songwriting. Like most of his sixties material, it doesn’t fit the pop/rock idiom, and sounds on the surface like a very silly novelty tune. But a closer listen reveals great depth. The songs is mildly satirical, yet deeply sensitive, revealing the hollowness of the glamorous life. The disillusionment with glamour was a big theme for Bowie at the time. He was bitter about his own failure to make it on the Mod scene and frustrated with his musical career. The maid of Bond Street is really just the female equivalent of the London Boy; she’s slightly more successful, but no more fulfilled. Getting what you thought you wanted isn’t all you thought it would be.