Spring is getting here, but not quite. I’m craving for the sun and heat to finally settle, but until i can go bare legs, i’ll have to put some grey tights to use, and hide sweaters under my trench coats. What are your tricks?
“J’ai également connu les filles du Net stockées en masse dans ton ordinateur et qui, celles-là, portaient tous les noms regroupés en grandes catégories, les Schoolgirls, les College Girls et les Girls Nextdoor, les Wild Girlfriends et celles qui portaient des bottes qui ne manquaient jamais de te faire chavirer devant ton écran, les Fuckmeboots. Grâce à toi, j’ai appris que sur le Net il y avait peu de Women.”
Rocking a dress by -30 C sure takes guts and dedication. Last night, at the Dress To Kill Magazine party, one of my coworkers told me he’s never even seen ski slopes as vertiginous as my ass’s curves, so i felt like flaunting it !
I’ve always hated it, for some reason. Reminiscences of distant mornigs where my mother would slap me in a pleated skirt, or even worse, velvet shorts, in this hue.
She’d take a couple steps back and say with undisguised pleasure : “You look like a petite fille modèle”.
Oh Navy, what an awful start we had. Let’s try and rewrite our story. I want you fluid and bedazzled. Meet my lover, Grey.