Munch critical attention has been drawn to Virginia Woolf``s female narrators who walk the streets of London. As exemplified by the narrator(s) of A Room of One``s Own, they relish the newly gained sense of freedom and feel sympathy towards less privileged urban citizens, rather different-less noted or, at times, vilified-walkers in Woolf``s works. These women seem to be less aware of, or slightly suppress, their gender identities. They are not entirely blind to their class privileges and social inequities, yet they seem to be more interested in watching and enjoying London life from their insider perspectives. As a result, these narrators have been either ignored by several critics particularly interested in Woolf``s feminism, or condemned by others concerned with her upper-middle-class conservatism. In either case, these critics are generally in accord in that they identify the narrator with the author. However, the narrator``s “enormous eye” in, for example, the essay “Street Haunting: A London Adventure,” is not Woolf``s own. It is a typical middle-class gaze that is strategically dramatized. In other words, there is another gaze that looks at the narrator``s gaze at once within and without the narrator. By creating this “double-gaze,” Woolf invites the reader to look at the narrator``s-as well as their own-optical, epistemological and possibly political limits. In a similar way, Woolf``s six essays about London posthumously collected as The London Scene refuse to pander to the middle-class desire to indulge in enjoying and consuming the city by constantly disclosing the ethical and political blind spots of the narrator``s gaze lurking beneath the seemingly innocuous surface. In sum, Woolf``s self-consciousness as an insider demands as much attention as her sense of being an outsider does for a better understanding of her feminist social criticism. Far from being incompatible or inconsistent with her sense of a “critical” outsider, Woolf``s keen sense as an insider, and her concomitant self-criticism, makes her social criticism all the more convincing and powerful; it educates the middle-class readers to look at their own limits; and directs her modernist “inward turn” to negotiate with, and intervene into, rather than retreat from, the real world.