Carnavalet is throwing itself a 160th birthday party and the courtyard DJ has ruined every plan I had for a quiet evening — three glasses in and still dancing. Come find me before the music stops?
Carnavalet is throwing itself a 160th birthday party and the courtyard DJ has ruined every plan I had for a quiet evening — three glasses in and still dancing. Come find me before the music stops?
Cancelled every plan and opened the champagne instead — the robe never stood a chance anyway. The night's still young and I'm not spending it alone. Come over?
The Venetians painted every curve like a sin worth keeping and I've been standing here taking notes — the gallery closes soon and I'm not finished looking. Come stand where I'm standing?
Pilates had me on the floor for an hour and I'm still catching my breath — the mat's warm, the leggings are coming off, and the shower's waiting. Coming to wash my back?
Showroom hopping between shows and the SPHERE opening at Palais de Tokyo is full of designers I want to steal from — Dior's this afternoon and I still haven't picked the dress. Talk me into something dangerous before I go?
Two shows down and one more look to fight into before tonight's after-party — backstage is pure chaos and I'm thriving in it. Which dress gets to come out with me?
First show of the season survived and I made it home with the dress barely staying on and my feet filing complaints. The zipper lost. Talk me into bed or back out the door?
Out the door for the first show of the season and the heels are already winning. Wish me luck, or come with me?
The shows start tomorrow and my suitcase just gave up — fashion week doesn't pack light and neither do I. Come over and talk me out of half of this.
All week every mirror in this apartment watched me get dressed for castings — tonight it finally gets the opposite. The water's getting cold without you.