On a grey lonely winter day, smell of rain in the air and sun blotted out from the sky, I did my best to fight the bad weather within. Past, present and future all merged ahead staring at me ‘til it hurt. Just like everybody else, I kept the right ones out and let the wrong ones in, I lost it and took off again over and over. On that review day I needed something to be certain of, so I resorted to style. I went to the essence in me, to that something I will stand by for as long as I live. There is great comfort in knowing that a part of you will never change, defying all fate’s labyrinths. Dressing the part has always been a last resort for a girl in trouble. Cold outside and cold inside calls for warm attire. And no matter the streets of which city I walk these days, I would do so confidently in flared pants and army boots to go with them. And since nostalgia must be honored in the French way, the beret was a match.

What comes out of cold, lonely days is art, whether it’s music, dance, literature or fashion…

 

You May Also Like