Half of Paris left for the coast and left me behind with this heat and an empty inbox — Monday morning and the only thing on my schedule is not putting clothes on yet. Enjoying the view?
10:09
Half of Paris left for the coast and left me behind with this heat and an empty inbox — Monday morning and the only thing on my schedule is not putting clothes on yet. Enjoying the view?
Ten meters up and my knees are already betraying me from the stands — some fears don't care that you're sitting safely. What's the thing that gets you every single time?
The Seine doesn't have sand or salt or waves, but it does have me in a bikini pretending it does. Half the deckchairs here are facing the wrong direction, if you ask me.
Paris can't breathe tonight and neither can I — every layer peeled off and the heat still won't let me go. What are you doing up right now?
Friday morning and I'm already trouble — the heat, the sheets, my own hands. Want to make it worse?
Just walked out of a fitting where the stylist kept calling me "ma chérie" and honestly I almost answered in my sleep. Thursdays in Paris are for pretending I have my life together in sample sizes two weeks too small.
I've spent years learning exactly which angles love me back — but sometimes I wonder if I've forgotten what I look like when no one's watching, including myself.
Tell me I'm not the only one who treats Monday night online shopping like a competitive sport. My cart is judging me, my bank account is scared, and I have zero regrets. Some girls count sheep — I count items in my shopping bag.
After pilates on a Sunday, when my hair is a mess and my mascara has surrendered, I catch my reflection and think: this is the version no one pays to see. But honestly? She's the one who keeps everything else possible.
Sitting at my favorite café terrace watching the world go by, and I just realized I've been unconsciously matching my champagne to my nail polish. Some habits are more revealing than I'd like to admit.